All day the wild nor'-easter had swept across the plain;
All day against the lattice had plashed the driving rain.
And every budding flower, and every blade of grass,
Had owned the wild March weather, and bowed to let it pass.
Dull morn and joyless noontide, had worn themselves away,
The sun sank sullen to the west, behind a shroud of grey.
Sudden the great clouds parted, like a yawning cavern's mouth,
Soft and tender gleamed the light, the wind blew from the south;
And every drooping blossom raised her fair rain-washed head,
The primrose glimmered 'mid her leaves, the violet in her bed;
Catching the golden radiance, out blazed the daffodil,
And from the greening hedgerows the sparrows twittered shrill;
And where a woman waited, her eyes flashed back the light,
And with a happy smile she said, "My love will come to-night."