Verse > Anthologies > Hamilton Fish Armstrong, ed. > The Book of New York Verse
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Hamilton Fish Armstrong, ed.  The Book of New York Verse.  1917.
 
Fifth Avenue—Spring Afternoon
By Louis Untermeyer
 
THE WORLD’S running over with color,
With whispers, strange fervors and April—
There’s a smell in the air as if meadows
          Were under our feet.
 
Spring smiles at the commonest waysides;        5
But she pours out her heart to the city,
As one woman might to another
          Who meet after years …
 
Restless with color and perfume,
The streets are a riot of blossoms.        10
What garden could boast of such flowers—
          Not Eden itself.
 
Primroses, pinks and gardenias,
Shame the grey town and its squalor—
Windows are naming with jonquils;        15
          Fires of gold!
 
Out of a florist’s some pansies
Peer at the crowd, like the faces
Of solemnly mischievous children
          Going to bed …        20
 
And women—Spring’s favorite children—
Frail and phantastically fashioned,
Pass like a race of immortals,
          Too radiant for earth.
 
The pale and the drab are transfigured,        25
They sing themselves into the sunshine—
Every girl is a lyric,
          An urge and a lure.
 
And, like a challenge of trumpets,
The Spring and its impulse goes through me—        30
Breezes and flowers and people
          Sing in my blood …
 
Breezes and flowers and people—
And under it all, oh belovèd,
Out of the song and the sunshine,        35
          Rises your face!
 
 
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