Inspired by the beautiful sunshine streaming through my windows this morning, I would like to share with you the poem ‘Spring’ by Christina Rossetti. Rossetti was an incredibly versatile poet, turning her hand to poetry about relationships, death, and thoughtful reflections on her love of God. Rossetti was even rumoured to be able to write a perfect sonnet (in iambic pentameter no less) in under 8 minutes when she was only 10 years old. In Lower Sixth English Literature, we have eagerly studied this wonderful poet and though this poem is not included in the syllabus, the warm imagery and hopeful tone made it perfect to share today. Perhaps opposite to her well-known ‘In the Bleak Midwinter’, the natural imagery in ‘Spring’ offers hope for a season of joy and new life. With life out of lockdown so tangibly close, I hope you enjoy this poem.
Spring
Frost-locked all the winter,
Seeds, and roots, and stones of fruits,
What shall make their sap ascend
That they may put forth shoots?
Tips of tender green,
Leaf, or blade, or sheath;
Telling of the hidden life
That breaks forth underneath,
Life nursed in its grave by Death.
Blows the thaw-wind pleasantly,
Drips the soaking rain,
By fits looks down the waking sun:
Young grass springs on the plain;
Young leaves clothe early hedgerow trees;
Seeds, and roots, and stones of fruits,
Swollen with sap put forth their shoots;
Curled-headed ferns sprout in the lane;
Birds sing and pair again.
There is no time like Spring,
When life’s alive in everything,
Before new nestlings sing,
Before cleft swallows speed their journey back
Along the trackless track –
God guides their wing,
He spreads their table that they nothing lack, –
Before the daisy grows a common flower
Before the sun has power
To scorch the world up in his noontide hour.
There is no time like Spring,
Like Spring that passes by;
There is no life like Spring-life born to die,
Piercing the sod,
Clothing the uncouth clod,
Hatched in the nest,
Fledged on the windy bough,
Strong on the wing:
There is no time like Spring that passes by,
Now newly born, and now
Hastening to die.
Christina Rossetti
