Spring


My heart had a thousand rooms
All locked with fear
At the hour of a thousand blooms
Every flower is dear

My dream had a thousand faces
All wearing an obscure smile
At wakening I see crystal traces
The light shines all the while

My muse had a thousand tones
All mingled with melancholic air
As turtle-doves start their sweet songs
Gone are old sighs and despair

Happy, happy bird, intoxicating voice!
Shine with beauty, breathe of love
In winter’s slumber revive your joys
O’er meadows, o’er mountain, and the sky above