I walk and wonder
To hear the birds sing,
Without you my lady
How can there be Spring?
I see the pink blossoms
That slept for a year;
But who could have woke them,
While you were not near?
Birds sing to the blossoms;
Blind, dreaming your pink,
These blush to the songsters,
Your music they think.
So well had you taught them,
To look and to sing;
Your bloom and your music;
The ways of the Spring.
More verses by Isaac Rosenberg
- Marching (As Seen From The Left File)
- Soldier: Twentieth Century
- ‘a Worm Fed On The Heart Of Corinth'
- The Troop Ship
- August 1914