And suddenly the wind comes soft, | ||
And Spring is here again; | ||
And the hawthorn quickens with buds of green | 3 | 3 |
And my heart with buds of pain. |
My heart all Winter lay so numb, | ||
The earth so dead and frore, | 6 | |
That I never thought the Spring would come again | 3 | |
Or my heart wake any more. |
But Winter's broken and earth has woken, | 9 | |
And the small birds cry again; | ||
And the hawthorn hedge puts forth its buds, | 3 | |
And my heart puts forth its pain. | 12 |