Lambs

They have come with Spring, with the tender leaves

And the birds’ first cry in the upland wood;

They are born to April, to lean-sheared ewes,

To grass thawed brightly where the hillside weaves

The awl-shaped buds slow-breaking, and the breath

Of Spring hung frailly with the cold of death.

On crooked legs the lambs go up the hills

With early day, with light’s first pointed thrust

Where earth burns greenly with a luscious fire

And fog drains narrowly into splintered rills.

They are the first sure trumpets at Winter’s cease,

The first woolly blooms, the sky’s first fleece.