[From HONE'S "Year Book"]
The insect world, now sunbeams higher climb,
Oft dream of Spring, and wake before their time:
Bees stroke their little legs across their wings,
And venture short flights where the snow-drop hings
Its silver bell, and winter aconite
Its buttercup-like flowers that shut at night,
With green leaf furling round its cup of gold,
Like tender maiden muffled from the cold:
They sip and find their honey-dreams are vain,
Then feebly hasten to their hives again.
The butterflies, by eager hopes undone,
Glad as a child come out to greet the sun,
Beneath the shadows of a sunny shower
Are lost, nor see to-morrow's April flower.
March
John Clare
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Poem topics: child, dream, flower, green, lost, night, silver, snow, spring, sun, time, winter, world, tender, sunny, venture, honey, cold, glad, gold, Print This Poem , Rhyme Scheme
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lynne jenkinson: I have been searching for this poem for a while I wish to post it to it to a friend of mine in the USA she is a great nature lover
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