Thank God for Spring! I said—
While no one watches, through the gloomy hours
She walks the weary earth, with noiseless tread,
And fills the graves with flowers!—
And holding in my hand
My soldier's message, in its leaves I read,
Through winter-waiting of a weary land,
A dawn of Spring, indeed;
A waste of leaves, wide-strown
Then, rains like tears, and then—these flowers for me!
The wild war horses tread the blossoms down
And set the sweetness free.
So, send me flowers again,
My soldier—not alone of Hope and Spring,
Flowers of Full Summer! through the crimson rain,
And battle-thunders of the shaken plain,
Close on their blossoming;
Red roses, flushed and bold—
Red Victor-roses,—sea-blue bells, wide blown,
That ring for Joy the river-edges down,
And white Peace-lilies, with the spike of gold,
That clasp the perfect crown!