天地的女儿，娇羞的春天，以突然的激情的凋零，使万物温柔地微笑，画出一里又一里的图画，捧着一个装着牛头草花圈的杯子，里面散发着无烟的香。女孩们正在剥着甜美的柳树、白杨树和基列树的皮，成群的男孩们在欢呼和欢呼，臀部，臀部三次三次。空气中充满了平淡的哨声;我从那片朦胧的土地上听到的是什么?是风的琴声，是鸟的歌唱，是牧人的拍手声，是空中飘荡的轰鸣，是陨落在白昼的流星的声音?这有弹性的空气，可以传递星象的消息。又或者，那也许是来自封闭阴暗的湖面的轰鸣声，它被垂下的山影冷却了，它的深处，直到正午的光辉照耀，痛苦地呻吟着，直到五月冰山的寒冷才退去。是松鼠暴躁的吠叫，还是松鸦的单簧管?听着，你的巢巢带着嘶嘶的叫声向北行驶，穿过天空的广袤和省份，每晚降落在浪漫的新风景中，黑暗喂养着喧闹的宗族，在孤独的湖边，给不认识的人。这是一种声音，这是一种象征，表明大理石般的睡眠已被打破，万物已发生变化。 Beneath the calm, within the light, A hid unruly appetite Of swifter life, a surer hope, Strains every sense to larger scope, Impatient to anticipate The halting steps of aged Fate. Slow grows the palm, too slow the pearl: When Nature falters, fain would zeal Grasp the felloes of her wheel, And grasping give the orbs another whirl. Turn swiftlier round, O tardy ball! And sun this frozen side, Bring hither back the robin's call, Bring back the tulip's pride. Why chidest thou the tardy Spring? The hardy bunting does not chide; The blackbirds make the maples ring With social cheer and jubilee; The redwing flutes his o-ka-lee, The robins know the melting snow; The sparrow meek, prophetic-eyed, Her nest beside the snow-drift weaves, Secure the osier yet will hide Her callow brood in mantling leaves; And thou, by science all undone, Why only must thy reason fail To see the southing of the sun? As we thaw frozen flesh with snow, So Spring will not, foolish fond, Mix polar night with tropic glow, Nor cloy us with unshaded sun, Nor wanton skip with bacchic dance, But she has the temperance Of the gods, whereof she is one,-- Masks her treasury of heat Under east-winds crossed with sleet. Plants and birds and humble creatures Well accept her rule austere; Titan-born, to hardy natures Cold is genial and dear. As Southern wrath to Northern right Is but straw to anthracite; As in the day of sacrifice, When heroes piled the pyre, The dismal Massachusetts ice Burned more than others' fire, So Spring guards with surface cold The garnered heat of ages old: Hers to sow the seed of bread, That man and all the kinds be fed; And, when the sunlight fills the hours, Dissolves the crust, displays the flowers. The world rolls round,--mistrust it not,-- Befalls again what once befell; All things return, both sphere and mote, And I shall hear my bluebird's note, And dream the dream of Auburn dell. When late I walked, in earlier days, All was stiff and stark; Knee-deep snows choked all the ways, In the sky no spark; Firm-braced I sought my ancient woods, Struggling through the drifted roads; The whited desert knew me not, Snow-ridges masked each darling spot; The summer dells, by genius haunted, One arctic moon had disenchanted. All the sweet secrets therein hid By Fancy, ghastly spells undid. Eldest mason, Frost, had piled, With wicked ingenuity, Swift cathedrals in the wild; The piny hosts were sheeted ghosts In the star-lit minster aisled. I found no joy: the icy wind Might rule the forest to his mind. Who would freeze in frozen brakes? Back to books and sheltered home, And wood-fire flickering on the walls, To hear, when, 'mid our talk and games, Without the baffled north-wind calls. But soft! a sultry morning breaks; The cowslips make the brown brook gay; A happier hour, a longer day. Now the sun leads in the May, Now desire of action wakes, And the wish to roam. The caged linnet in the Spring Hearkens for the choral glee, When his fellows on the wing Migrate from the Southern Sea; When trellised grapes their flowers unmask, And the new-born tendrils twine, The old wine darkling in the cask Feels the bloom on the living vine, And bursts the hoops at hint of Spring: And so, perchance, in Adam's race, Of Eden's bower some dr