Intimation

All night I smiled as I slept,
For I heard the March-wind feel
Blindly about in the trees without
For buds to heal.

All night in dreams, for I smelt,
In the rain-wet woods and fields,
The coming flowers and the glad green hours
That summer yields.

And when at dawn I awoke,
At the blue-bird's wooing cheep,
Winter with all its chill and pall
Seemed but a sleep.