Bob Weighton: March 2016
Age old, yet ever new,
Tree that burst, and flower that grew
A thousand years ago, as now,
Down in the garden, on the bough,
Break the shy buds in yellow and green;
And daffodils, violets, can be seen
Along by the fence, in the morning air
Nodding and dancing without a care.
Flags on Spring! In joy unfurled,
Breaking, singing, round the world;
Whose the heart, and whose the hand
All your perfect beauty planned?
Whose the patience, year by year
Watches Winter creeping near,
Fade the flower and fall the leaf
Summers glory turned to grief?
Yet has dreams of other Springs
Time of recreated things;
Turns again un wearied hands
To fulfil what hope commands,
Turns again to fashion anew
All Earth's loveliness for me and you.
Thank you God!
West Hartford, 1941
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