All My Heart Is Stirring Lightly

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All my heart is stirring lightly
 Like dim violets winter-bound,
Quickening as they feel the brightly
 Glowing sunlight underground.

Yea, this drear and silent bosom,
 Hushed as snow-hid grove but now,
Breaketh into leaf and blossom
 Like a gleaming vernal bough.

Oh the singing, singing, singing!
 Callow hopes that thrill my breast!
Can the lark of love be winging
 Back to its abandoned nest?

© Mathilde Blind