Sweetheart Spring
Vachel Lindsay
Our Sweetheart, Spring, came softly, Her gliding hands were fire, Her lilac breath upon our cheeks Consumed us with desire. By her our God began to build, Began to sow and till. He laid foundations in our loves For every good and ill. We asked Him not for blessing, We asked Him not for pain— Still, to the just and unjust He sent His fire and rain.
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