Springtime Poetry from the Archive
We’ve had some lovely weather here in Dundee this week. Winter may not be over yet, but flowers are beginning to appear – hopefully, Spring can’t be too far off.
On a trip up to our Archive, I spotted this Springtime poem from February, 1873. Seems that although lots has changed since then, lots has stayed the same, too – we’re all looking forward to the lighter nights and milder weather that Spring brings. Snowdrops are always welcome!
To An Early Snowdrop
Bonnie floweret, why so early
Hast thou left thy bed?
Didst thou hear the bleak winds rushing
Wildly o’er thy head?
Did their loud turmoil disturb thee
In thy quiet rest,
Or was winter’s chill hand pressing
Coldly on thy breast?
Did the music of yon song-bird
Reach thee on that morn
When the first faint blink of sunshine
Lit the leafless thorn?
Pretty warbler, ‘twas but dreaming
Of the summer flowers,
And the many whispering voices
Of the leafy bowers.
Sweet one, nothing yet is stirring
On the barren lea;
All beside is still and slumbering
In the earth, save thee.
Only here and there a gowan,
Looking gently up,
Seems to wonder that no dew-drop
Fills its starry cup.
But from glade to glade the zephyr,
Like a fay, must skip,
Ere the rosebud wooes the dew-drop
With its pouting lip.
And thou’rt welcome, bonnie floweret,
Stainless, pure, and white;
Like the star of morn, thou tellest
Of the passing night.
B. Aird
