April Pilgrim's Poem

I saw the bud-crowned Spring go forth,
stepping daily onward North
To greet staid ancient cavaliers,
Filing in a stately train.
And who, and who are the travellers?
They were Night and Day, and Day and Night,
Pilgrims wight with step forthwright.
I saw the Days deformed and low
Short and bent by cold and snow;
The merry Spring threw wreaths on them!
Flower-wreaths gay with bud and bell;
Many a flower and many a gem,
They were refreshed by the smell,
They shook the snow from hats and shoon,
They put their April raiment on;
And those eternal forms,
Unhurt by a thousand storms,
Shot up to the height of the sky again
And danced as merrily as young women.
It was as if the eternal gods,
Tired of their starry periods,
Hid their majesty in cloth
Woven of tulips and painted moth.
On carpets green the pilgrims march
Below May's well-appointed arch.
Each star, each god, each grace amain,
Every joy and every virtue speed,
Marching daily in her train
And fainting Nature in her need
Is made whole again.
-Ralph Waldo Emerson