Spring Song

ALL winter through I sat alone, Doors barred and windows shuttered fast, And listened to the wind's faint moan, And ghostly mutterings of the past; And in the pauses of the rain, 'Mid whispers of dead sorrow and sin, Love tapped upon the window pane: I had no heart to let him in. But now, with spring, my doors stand wide; My windows let delight creep through; I hear the skylark sing outside; I see the crocus, golden new. The pigeons on my window-sill, Winging and wooing, flirt and flout,-- Now Love must enter if he will, I have no heart to keep him out.