The Green Singer

All singers have shadows
That follow like fears,
But I know a singer
Who never saw tears ;
A gay love — a green love —
Delightsome — divine :
The Spring is that singer —
An old love of mine !

All players have shadows,
And into the play
Old sorrows will saunter —
Old sorrows will stay.
But here is a player
Whose speech is divine :
The Spring is that player —
An old love of mine !

All singers grow heavy :
Their hours as they run
Bite up all the blossoms,
Suck up all the sun ;
But I know a singer
Delightsome — divine :
The gay love — the green love
An old love of mine !