Spring still makes spring in the mind
When sixty years are told;
Love wakes anew this throbbing heart,
And we are never old;
Over the winter glaciers
I see the summer glow,
And through the wild-piled snow-drift
The warm rosebuds below.
~Emerson
2 comments:
What spring?
Sarra it is so cool that you always have poetry on your blog! I always love your poems.
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