Normale Version: A THOUGHT OF MAY
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All that long, mad March day, in the dull town,
I had a thought of May — alas, alas !
The dogwood boughs made whiteness up and down;
The daffodils were burning in the grass;

And there were bees astir in lane and street,
And scent of lilacs blowing tall and lush ;
While hey, the wind, that pitched its voice so sweet.
It seemed an angel talked behind each bush !

The west grew very golden, roofs turned black.
I saw one star above the gables bare.
The door flew open. Love, you had come back.
I held my arms; you found the old way there.

In its old place you laid your yellow head,
And at your kiss the mad March weather fled!