{"id":798,"date":"2010-12-31T18:39:39","date_gmt":"2010-12-31T18:39:39","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.everywritersresource.com\/poemeveryday\/?p=798"},"modified":"2010-12-31T18:41:06","modified_gmt":"2010-12-31T18:41:06","slug":"march-by-h-p-lovecraft","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.everywritersresource.com\/poemeveryday\/march-by-h-p-lovecraft\/","title":{"rendered":"March by H. P. Lovecraft"},"content":{"rendered":"
\"\"<\/a>
H.P. Lovecraft<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n

March by H. P. Lovecraft<\/p>\n

Let other bards with nobler talents sing
\nThe beauties of the mild, maturer spring.
\nMy rustic Muse on bleaker times must dwell,
\nWhen Earth, but new-escap’d from winter’s spell,
\nUncloth’d, unshelter’d, unadorn’d, is seen;
\nStript of white robes, nor yet array’d in green.
\nHard blows the breeze, but with a warmer force.
\nThe melting ground, the brimming watercourse,
\nThe wak’ning air, the birds’ returning flight,
\nThe longer sunshine, and the shorter night,
\nArcturus’ beams, and Corvus’ glitt’ring rays,
\nDiffuse a promise of the genial days.
\nYon muddy remnant of the winter snow
\nShrinks humbly in the equinoctial glow,
\nWhilst in the fields precocious grass-blades peep
\nAbove the earth so lately wrapt in sleep.
\nWhat sweet, elusive odor fills the soil,
\nTo rouse the farmer to his yearly toil!
\nThough thick the clouds, and bare the maple bough,
\nWith what gay song he guides the cumbrous plough!
\nIn him there stirs, like sap within the tree,
\nThe joyous call to new activity:
\nThe outward scene, however dull and drear,
\nTakes on a splendor from the inward cheer.
\nProphetic month! Would that I might rehearse
\nThy hidden beauties in sublimer verse:
\nThy glorious youth, thy vigor all unspent,
\nThy stirring winds, of spring and winter blent.
\nSummer brings blessings of enervate kind;
\nThy joys, O March, are ecstasies of mind.
\nIn June we revel in the bees’ soft hum,
\nBut March exalts us with the bliss to come.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

March by H. P. Lovecraft Let other bards with nobler talents sing The beauties of the mild, maturer spring. My rustic Muse on bleaker times must dwell, When Earth, but new-escap’d from winter’s spell, Uncloth’d, unshelter’d, unadorn’d, is seen; Stript of white robes, nor yet array’d in green. Hard blows the breeze, but with a…<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_monsterinsights_skip_tracking":false,"_uf_show_specific_survey":0,"_uf_disable_surveys":false,"footnotes":""},"categories":[84],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-798","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-1900s"],"aioseo_notices":[],"aioseo_head":"\n\t\t\n\t\n\t\n\t\n\t\n\t\n\t\t\n\t\t\n\t\t\n\t\t\n\t\t\n\t\t\n\t\t\n\t\t\n\t\t\n\t\t\n\t\t\n\t\t\n\t\t\n\t\t