Between the Winter and the Spring
One came to me at dead of night;
I heard him well as any might,
Although his lips, unmurmuring,
Made no sweet sounds for my delight;
Also, I knew him, though long days
(It seemed) had fallen across my ways
Since I had felt his comforting.

It was quite dark, but I could see
His hair was yellow as the sun;
And his soft garments, every one,
Were white as angels’ throats may be;
And as some man whose pain is done
At last, and peace is surely his,
His eyes were perfect with great bliss
And seemed so glad to look at me.

I knew that he had come to bring
The change that I was waiting for,
And, as he crossed my rush-strewn floor,
I had no thought of questioning;
And then he kissed me, o’er and o’er,
Upon the eyes; so I fell
Asleep unfrightened,—knowing well
That morning would fulfill the Spring.

And when they came at early morn
And found that I at last was dead,―
Some two or three knelt by my bed
And prayed for one they deemed forlorn;
But he they wept for only said
(Thinking of when the old days were),
“Alas, that God had need of her
The very morning Spring was born!”