Elizabeth Stoddard



The Willow Boughs Are Yellow Now

by Elizabeth Stoddard

The willow boughs are yellow now,
For spring has come again
The peach-tree buds begin to swell,
Dripping with April rain.

The gray-eyed twilight lingers long,
To meet the starry night;
I walk the darkening lanes alone,
And love the sombre light.

The dream of other days returns,
When comes the blossomed spring;
But when the full leaved summer comes
My dream has taken wing!

The twittering swallows in the lane
Were there a year ago;
The old nests in the tangled vines
Their next year's brood will know.

A little brood of children fair,
Under the mother's wing,
Is in the dream of other days,
That flies when flies the spring!


Copyright 1895
Houghton, Mifflin And Company, Boston And New York