If there comes a little thaw, 
Still the air is chill and raw, 
Here and there a patch of snow,
Dirtier than the ground below, 
Dribbles down a marshy flood; 
Ankle-deep you stick in mud In the meadows while you sing, 
'This is Spring.' -Christopher Pearce Cranch

 

If there comes a little thaw, Still the air is chill and raw, Here and there a patch of snow, Dirtier than the ground below, Dribbles down a marshy flood; Ankle-deep you stick in mud In the meadows while you sing, 'This is Spring.'


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