Warble for Lilac-Time

1WARBLE me now, for joy of Lilac-time,

2Sort me, O tongue and lips, for Nature’s sake, and sweet life’s sake—and

3 death’s the same as life’s,

4Souvenirs of earliest summer—birds’ eggs, and the first berries;

5Gather the welcome signs, (as children, with pebbles, or stringing shells;)

6Put in April and May—the hylas croaking in the ponds—the elastic air,

7Bees, butterflies, the sparrow with its simple notes,

8Blue-bird, and darting swallow—nor forget the high-hole flashing his golden wings,

9The tranquil sunny haze, the clinging smoke, the vapor,

10Spiritual, airy insects, humming on gossamer wings,

11Shimmer of waters, with fish in them—the cerulean above;

12All that is jocund and sparkling—the brooks running,

13The maple woods, the crisp February days, and the sugar-making;

14The robin, where he hops, bright-eyed, brown-breasted,

15With musical clear call at sunrise, and again at sunset,

16Or flitting among the trees of the apple-orchard, building the nest of his mate;

17The melted snow of March—the willow sending forth its yellow-green sprouts;

18—For spring-time is here! the summer is here! and what is this in it and from it?

19Thou, Soul, unloosen’d—the restlessness after I know not what;

20Come! let us lag here no longer—let us be up and away!

21O for another world! O if one could but fly like a bird!

22O to escape—to sail forth, as in a ship!

23To glide with thee, O Soul, o’er all, in all, as a ship o’er the waters!

24—Gathering these hints, these preludes—the blue sky, the grass, the morning

25 drops of

26 dew;

27(With additional songs—every spring will I now strike up additional songs,

28Nor ever again forget, these tender days, the chants of Death as well as Life;)

29The lilac-scent, the bushes, and the dark green, heart-shaped leaves,

30Wood violets, the little delicate pale blossoms called innocence,

31Samples and sorts not for themselves alone, but for their atmosphere,

32To tally, drench’d with them, tested by them,

33Cities and artificial life, and all their sights and scenes,

34My mind henceforth, and all its meditations—my recitatives,

35My land, my age, my race, for once to serve in songs,

36(Sprouts, tokens ever of death indeed the same as life,)

37To grace the bush I love—to sing with the birds,

38A warble for joy of Lilac-time.