On every blooming tree,
And spreads her sheets o' daisies white
Out o'er the grassy lea.
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Still the air is chill and raw,
Here and there a patch of snow,
Dirtier than the ground below,
Dribbles down a marshy flood;
Ankle-deep you stick in mud
In the meadows while you sing,
"This is Spring."
HEX: #9A0D04
RGB: 154 13 4
RGB: 154 13 4
HEX: #2A3702
RGB: 42 55 2
RGB: 42 55 2
HEX: #384102
RGB: 56 65 2
RGB: 56 65 2
HEX: #F92D24
RGB: 249 45 36
RGB: 249 45 36
HEX: #8D9724
RGB: 141 151 36
RGB: 141 151 36
And all the daffodils
Are blowing, and the bright blue squills.
I walk down the patterned garden-paths
In my stiff, brocaded gown.
With my powdered hair, and jewelled fan,
I too am a rare
Pattern. As I wander down
The garden paths.
