If I might see another Spring
     I'd not plant summer flowers and wait:
I'd have my crocuses at once,
My leafless pink mezereons,
     My chill-veined snowdrops, choicer yet
     My white or azure violet,
Leaf-nested primrose; anything
     To blow at once, not late.

If I might see another Spring
     I'd listen to the daylight birds
That build their nests and pair and sing,
Nor wait for mateless nightingale;
     I'd listen to the lusty herds,

     The ewes with lambs as white as snow,
I'd find out music in the hail
     And all the winds that blow.

If I might see another Spring--
     Oh stinging comment on my past
That all my past results in 'if'--
If I might see another Spring
     I'd laugh to-day, to-day is brief;
     I would not wait for anything:
I'd use to-day that cannot last,
     Be glad to-day and sing.

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