Poem by Elizabeth Drew Stoddard. This poem appeared in Poems (Houghton, Mifflin and Company, 1895). It is in the public domain.
Ho, wind of March, speed over sea,<br />
From mountains where the snows lie deep<br />
The cruel glaciers threatening creep,<br />
And witness this, my jubilee!<br />
Roar from the surf of boreal isles,<br />
Roar from the hidden, jagged steeps,<br />
Where the destroyer never sleeps;<br />
Ring through the iceberg’s Gothic piles!<br />
Voyage through space with your wild train,<br />
Harping its shrillest, searching tone,<br />
Or wailing deep its ancient moan,<br />
And learn how impotent your reign.<br />
Then hover by this garden bed,<br />
With all your willful power, behold,<br />
Just breaking from the leafy mould,<br />
My little primrose lift its head!
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