SPRING FANCY
There is an orchard, old and rare,(I cannot tell you where!)With green doors opening to the sun;And the sky-children gather thereTo watch the blossoms, one by one,Falling wistfully thru the airFrom the trees’ dishevelled hair.The sky-children shake their wingsWith flutterings and gurglings—And love the light and kiss the sun,Nor heed the blossoms that have blownFrom the fruit-wives’ ancient hairEarthward thru the glowing air,Wistfully—one by one.
There is an orchard, old and rare,(I cannot tell you where!)With green doors opening to the sun;And the sky-children gather thereTo watch the blossoms, one by one,Falling wistfully thru the airFrom the trees’ dishevelled hair.The sky-children shake their wingsWith flutterings and gurglings—And love the light and kiss the sun,Nor heed the blossoms that have blownFrom the fruit-wives’ ancient hairEarthward thru the glowing air,Wistfully—one by one.
There is an orchard, old and rare,(I cannot tell you where!)With green doors opening to the sun;And the sky-children gather thereTo watch the blossoms, one by one,Falling wistfully thru the airFrom the trees’ dishevelled hair.
There is an orchard, old and rare,
(I cannot tell you where!)
With green doors opening to the sun;
And the sky-children gather there
To watch the blossoms, one by one,
Falling wistfully thru the air
From the trees’ dishevelled hair.
The sky-children shake their wingsWith flutterings and gurglings—And love the light and kiss the sun,Nor heed the blossoms that have blownFrom the fruit-wives’ ancient hairEarthward thru the glowing air,Wistfully—one by one.
The sky-children shake their wings
With flutterings and gurglings—
And love the light and kiss the sun,
Nor heed the blossoms that have blown
From the fruit-wives’ ancient hair
Earthward thru the glowing air,
Wistfully—one by one.