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Flower god, god of the spring, beautiful, bountiful,
Cold-dyed shield in the sky, lover of versicles,
Here I wander in April
Cold, grey-headed; and still to my
Heart, Spring comes with a bound, Spring the deliverer,
Spring, song-leader in woods, chorally resonant;
Spring, flower-planter in meadows,
Child-conductor in willowy
Fields deep dotted with bloom, daisies and crocuses:
Here that child from his heart drinks eternity:
O child, happy are children!
She still smiles on their innocence,
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Fills earth full of her scents, voices and violins:
Thus one cunning music
Wakes old chords in the memory:
Thus fair earth in the Spring leads her performances.
One more touch of the bow, smell the virginal
Green - one more, and my bosom
Feels new life with an ecstasy.
~Robert Louis Stevenson
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