Darling, thy form and fragrance haunt the Spring, br And every wind becomes thy messenger; br To whisperings of thee the woodlands stir, br And waves from out the western ocean bring br A freight of foam that leaves me wondering, br Who know thy bosom is as white. O spur br Of Spring, when every bird's a sorcerer. br And jonquils waken as the linnets sing! br br Oh! Craig! it seems that Spring's transmuting word br Should turn each lifted flower to a bird. br Till all should flutter to thee where thou art; br Or else that every blossom should attain br The morning linnet's gift of song, and rain br A fragrant music on thy listening heart.