"The time when dog-tooth violets
Hold up inverted horns of gold,--
The elvish cups that Spring upsets
With dripping feet, when April wets
The sun-and-shadow-marbled wold,--
Is come. And by each leafing way
The sorrel drops pale blots of pink;
And, like an angled star a fay
Sets on her forehead's pallid day,
The blossoms of the trillium wink.
Within the vale, by rock and stream,--
A fragile, fairy porcelain,--
Blue as a baby's eyes a-dream,
The bluets blow; and gleam in gleam
The sun-shot dog-woods flash with rain.
It is the time to cast off care;
To make glad intimates of these:--
The frank-faced sunbeam laughing there;
The great-heart wind, that bids us share
The optimism of the trees."
~Madison Julius Cawein