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Spring
by
Christina Rossetti


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Frost-locked all the winter,
Seeds, and roots, and stones of fruits,
What shall make their sap ascend
That they may put forth shoots,
Tips of tender green,
Leaf, or blade, or sheath;
Telling of the hidden life
That breaks forth underneath,
Life nursed in its grave by Death.

Blows the thaw-wind pleasantly,
Drips the soaking rain,
By fits looks down the waking sun:
Young grass springs on the plain;
Young leaves clothe early hedgerow trees;
Seeds, and roots, and stones of fruits,
Swollen with sap, put forth their shoots;
Curled-headed ferns sprout in the lane;
Birds sing and pair again.

There is no time like Spring,
When life's alive in everything,
Before new nestlings sing,
Before cleft swallows speed their journey back
Along the trackless track, —
God guides their wing,
He spreads their table that they nothing lack,
Before the daisy grows a common flower,
Before the sun has power
To scorch the world up in his noontide hour.

There is no time like Spring,
Like Spring that passes by;
There is no life like Spring-life born to die,
Piercing the sod,
Clothing the uncouth clod,
Hatched in the nest,
Fledged on the windy bough,
Strong on the wing:
There is no time like Spring that passes by,
Now newly born, and now
Hastening to die.


This poem is in the public domain.




Christina Rossetti (1830 - 1894) was born in England to a family of great literary and artistic talent. A beauty who frequently modeled for her brother Dante and other respected artists of her day, Christina began writing as a child and published her first poem at eighteen. A kind-hearted woman who spent many years as a charity volunteer, Christina’s devout faith was often a central theme in the three books of poetry and four books of devotions she wrote during her life. Though her poems show up consistently in contemporary films, television shows, and musical compositions, her most familiar work is “In the Bleak Midwinter,” which, when set to music, became a beloved Christmas carol.

    

 

 


Post New Comment:
shirley.bruton@gmail.com:
Wonderful poem to read and re-read. It has so much depth. As life begins, so it must die.
Posted 03/24/2021 12:31 PM
michael escoubas:
Totally right, Jayne . . . this medium-length poem is well worth the time. The crafsmanship alone is an education.
Posted 03/24/2021 09:36 AM
Gilbert Allen:
A lovely poem that manages to celebrate and elegize Spring at the same time.
Posted 03/24/2021 08:50 AM
Larry Schug:
Very nice choice today, Jayne. "He spreads their table that they nothing lack" and yet we seem intent in pulling the tablecloth out from beneath creation. Old poems like this are important in that they teach us lessons filled with wisdom and insight.
Posted 03/24/2021 08:05 AM


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