| Edmund Clarence Stedman, ed. (1833–1908). An American Anthology, 1787–1900. 1900. |
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| 310. Tears in Spring |
| | | (Lament for Thoreau) |
| | | By William Ellery Channing |
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| THE SWALLOW is flying over, | |
| But he will not come to me; | |
| He flits, my daring rover, | |
| From land to land, from sea to sea; | |
| Where hot Bermuda’s reef | 5 |
| Its barrier lifts to fortify the shore, | |
| Above the surf’s wild roar | |
| He darts as swiftly o’er,— | |
| But he who heard his cry of spring | |
| Hears that no more, heeds not his wing. | 10 |
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| How bright the skies that dally | |
| Along day’s cheerful arch, | |
| And paint the sunset valley! | |
| How redly buds the larch! | |
| Blackbirds are singing, | 15 |
| Clear hylas ringing, | |
| Over the meadow the frogs proclaim | |
| The coming of Spring to boy and dame, | |
| But not to me,— | |
| Nor thee! | 20 |
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| And golden crowfoot’s shining near, | |
| Spring everywhere that shoots ’t is clear, | |
| A wail in the wind is all I hear; | |
| A voice of woe for a lover’s loss, | |
| A motto for a travelling cross,— | 25 |
| And yet it is mean to mourn for thee, | |
| In the form of bird or blossom or bee. | |
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| Cold are the sods of the valley to-day | |
| Where thou art sleeping, | |
| That took thee back to thy native clay; | 30 |
| Cold,—if above thee the grass is peeping | |
| And the patient sunlight creeping, | |
| While the bluebird sits on the locust-bough | |
| Whose shadow is painted across thy brow, | |
| And carols his welcome so sad and sweet | 35 |
| To the Spring that comes and Kisses his feet. | |
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