Explore "Resurrection" by Ameen Rihani on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
The ghost of Winter stalks amidst the boughs / Of Spring and drags along his icy shroud; / The corn flowers and the wheat, with broken vows, / Are now beneath the storm untimely bowed.
O Winter, thou wert buried on the hills; / Thine epitaph was written with melted snow; / Thy skeleton is in the barren rills, / Where once thy silvery life-blood used to flow.
Why visitest the glimpses of the sun / So soon, what message bring'st thou from the dead?
Why rudely interrupt the children's fun / And havoc among the Guests of Summer spread?
Behold, the branches shiver, the blossoms fall; / The lilac in the leaves a shelter seeks; / Thy savage winds the Queen of May appal -- / They pale with summer's dust her rosy cheeks.
Withhold the solemn music of thy gale / Until the golden notes of Spring are spun; / The opera in the trees is but begun, / O, drown it not with thy benighted wail.
For thee May's winged madonnas will not sing, / Nor in thy presence will they now appear: / Begone, that their sweet voices we may hear -- / Begone, the world today belongs to Spring.