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This Is Spring
(25 April 1854 – 3 November 1926 / Ontario)

This Is Spring

Poem By Robert Kirkland Kernighan

A rush of sunlight o'er the way,

A cry of wild birds in the park,
A glow of golden light by day, t

A field of blazing stars at dark
Among the trees, along the grass,

The songs of many robins ring;
And as the splendid moments pass,

The world cries out, ' So this is Spring! '

To-day my heart is like a dart

That's feathered with an eagle's plume,
And rises from the dark apart

To reach the sunlight from the gloom.
Unfettered are the waters wide,

The lakelets laugh, the rivers sing;
No matter what the hours betide,

I only know that this is Spring.

Spring is Hope and Hope is God!

Without it nothing lives or breathes;
It speaks behold the daisied sod;

The tree is glad, the water seethes;
The crows go winding Northward ho!

The cranes across the marshes swing,
The bullfrogs croak where sedges grow,

And then I know that this is Spring.

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