Who Has Seen The Wind? Neither You

I Wonder If The Sap Is Stirring Yet, If Wintry Birds Are Dreaming Of A Mate, If Frozen Snowdrops Feel As Yet The Sun And Crocus Fires Are Kindling One By One: Sing Robin, Sing: I Still Am Sore In Doubt Concerning Spring.

She Gave Up Beauty In Her Tender Youth, Gave All Her Hope And Joy And Pleasant Ways; She Covered Up Her Eyes Lest They Should Gaze On Vanity, And Chose The Bitter Truth.

O Lord, I Cannot Plead My Love Of Thee: I Plead Thy Love Of Me: - The Shallow Conduit Hails The Unfathomed Sea.

I Might Show Facts As Plain As Day: But, Since Your Eyes Are Blind, You'd Say, 'where? What?' And Turn Away.

The Rose Saith In The Dewy Morn, I Am Most Fair; Yet All My Loveliness Is Born Upon A Thorn.