The Collected Poems of Rupert Brooke

Song

   All suddenly the wind comes soft,
    And Spring is here again;
   And the hawthorn quickens with buds of green,
    And my heart with buds of pain.

   My heart all Winter lay so numb,
    The earth so dead and frore,
   That I never thought the Spring would come,
    Or my heart wake any more.

   But Winter's broken and earth has woken,
    And the small birds cry again;
   And the hawthorn hedge puts forth its buds,
    And my heart puts forth its pain.