Spring Poems


It is the spring air, which makes us feel so alive and wonderful! Flowers blooming, birds chirping, the heady aroma of the flowers and some beautiful spring poems to go with it, in the form of poems – it is the perfect way to spend a day during the spring season. Many poets and common people, as well have penned some of the most beautiful, spring poems. Listening or reading one of these poems is a nice experience, not only during the spring time, but at any time.

Spring Poems
    

Daffodils

I wandered lonely as a cloud
That floats on high o'er vales and hills,
When all at once I saw a crowd,
A host, of golden daffodils;
Beside the lake, beneath the trees,
Fluttering and dancing in the breeze.

Continuous as the stars that shine
And twinkle on the milky way,
They stretched in never-ending line
Along the margin of a bay:
Ten thousand saw I at a glance,
Tossing their heads in sprightly dance

The waves beside them danced, but they
Out-did the sparkling leaves in glee;
A poet could not be but gay,
In such a jocund company!
I gazed—and gazed—but little thought
What wealth the show to me had brought:

For oft, when on my couch I lie
In vacant or in pensive mood,
They flash upon that inward eye
Which is the bliss of solitude;
And then my heart with pleasure fills,
And dances with the daffodils
~ William Wordsworth

It was a Lover and his Lass

It was a lover and his lass,
With a hey, and a ho, and a hey nonino,
That o'er the green corn-field did pass,
In the spring time, the only pretty ring time,
When birds do sing, hey ding a ding, ding;
Sweet lovers love the spring.

Between the acres of the rye,
With a hey, and a ho, and a hey nonino,
These pretty country folks would lie,
In the spring time, the only pretty ring time,
When birds do sing, hey ding a ding, ding;
Sweet lovers love the spring.

This carol they began that hour,
With a hey, and a ho, and a hey nonino,
How that life was but a flower
In the spring time, the only pretty ring time,
When birds do sing, hey ding a ding, ding;
Sweet lovers love the spring.

And, therefore, take the present time
With a hey, and a ho, and a hey nonino,
For love is crown`d with the prime
In the spring time, the only pretty ring time,
When birds do sing, hey ding a ding, ding;
Sweet lovers love the spring.
~ William Shakespeare

Spring Poems
    

Showery Time

The April rain-drops tinkle
In cuckoo-cups of gold,
And warm south winds unwrinkle
The buds the peach-boughs hold.

In countless fluted creases
The little elm-leaves show,
While white as carded fleeces
The dogwood blossoms blow.

A rosy robe is wrapping
The early red-bud trees;
But still the haws are napping,
Nor heed the honey-bees.

And still in lazy sleeping
The apple-buds are bound,
But tulip-tips are peeping
From out the garden ground.

And yonder, gayly swinging
Upon the turning vane,
A robin redbreast singing
Makes merry at the rain!
~ Evaleen Stein

Spring Poems
    

When daisies pied and violets blue

When daisies pied and violets blue
And lady-smocks all silver-white
And cuckoo-buds of yellow hue
Do paint the meadows with delight,
The cuckoo then, on every tree,
Mocks married men; for thus sings he, Cuckoo;

Cuckoo, cuckoo: Oh word of fear,
Unpleasing to a married ear!

When shepherds pipe on oaten straws,
And merry larks are plowmen's clocks,
When turtles tread, and rooks, and daws,
And maidens bleach their summer smocks,
The cuckoo then, on every tree,
Mocks married men; for thus sings he, Cuckoo;

Cuckoo, cuckoo: Oh word of fear,
Unpleasing to a married ear!
~ William Shakespeare

Spring Poems
    

Spring is life

Spring is life
Spring is hope
So is love and happiness.
Spring renews.
Without spring,
life is forlorn.
Spring is nostalgia
after bitter storm.
Put spring in your heart

The month of May was come

The month of May was come,
when every lusty heart beginneth
to blossom, and to bring forth fruit;
for like as herbs and trees bring
forth fruit and flourish in May,
in likewise every lusty heart
that is in any manner a lover,
springeth and flourisheth in lusty deeds.
For it giveth unto all lovers courage,
that lusty month of May.
Sir Thomas Malory

Spring Poems
    

I sing of brooks, of blossoms, birds, and bowers

Of April, May, of June, and July flowers.
I sing of Maypoles, Hock-carts, wassails, wakes,
Of bridegrooms, brides, and of their bridal cakes.
Robert Herrick

Spring Poems
    

The Spring comes slowly up

The Spring comes slowly up this way,
Slowly, slowly,
Under a snood of hodden grey.

The black and white for her array,
Slowly, slowly,
The Spring comes slowly up this way.

Where is her green that was so gay?
Slowly, slowly,
The Spring comes slowly up this way.

Unto a world too sick for May,
Slowly, slowly,
The Spring comes slowly up this way.

Where are the lads that used to play?
Slowly, slowly,
The Spring comes slowly up this way.

She has no heart for holiday,
Slowly, slowly,
The Spring comes slowly up this way.

The trees are out in Heaven they say.
Slowly, slowly,
The Spring comes slowly up our way.
Katharine Tynan

Spring Poems
    

Spring, the sweet spring

Spring, the sweet spring, is the year's pleasant king;
Then blooms each thing, then maids dance in a ring,
Cold doth not sting, the pretty birds do sing.
Cuckoo, jug-jug, pu-we, to-witta-woo!
Thomas Nashe