Written at the Close of Spring
Charlotte Smith
January 15, 2019
The garlands fade that Spring so lately wove,Each simple flower, which she had nursed in dew,Anemonies, that spangled every grove,The primrose wan, and hare-bell mildly blue. No more shall violets linger in the dell,Or purple orchis variegate the plain,Till Spring again shall call forth every bell,And dress with humid hands her wreathes again.