once more the spring

all those who fill the fields with empty dreams
are gone to view the morning free of cloud
we know their hope and know just how they're proud
as if they had by effort made those beams
had with a should made each one of the gleams
and done far more than would have been allowed
by any force with which we are endowed
along the banks of these fresh-rushing streams
red buds erupting mean an end to stark
winter and all passion that must return
gives us the hope that once more the freight
of what has built up during the long dark
will not in one short day blow up and burn
but show a light that will be worth the wait