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

Lucy Crichton

Fiction Editor Lucy is always on the look-out for the very best short stories, poems and pocket novels. As well as sourcing enjoyable content, she enjoys working with our established contributors, encouraging new talent, and celebrating 155 years of 'Friend' fiction!