Spring Song, Meirionydd
A white combustion rules these fields,
and testifies to men, and rams;
the mind of winter thaws, and yields–
Great God, the world is drunk with lambs.
The high grey stone is clean of snows,
the streams come tumbling, far from dams;
the wind is green, the day’s eye grows–
Great God, the world is drunk with lambs.
The heart, gone light as all the ewes,
redounds with milk, and epigrams
that make no sense; except their news–
Great God, the world is drunk with lambs.
In gold October, grown to size,
they’ll know the hook, and hang with hams,
but March is all their enterprise–
Great God, the world is drunk with lambs.
by John Dressel.
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In the Dark 