A Touch Of Nature
When first the crocus thrusts its point of gold Up through the still snow-drifted garden mould, And folded green things in dim woods unclose Their crinkled spears, a sudden tremor goes Into my veins and makes me kith and kin To every wild-born thing that thrills and blows. Sitting beside this crumbling sea-coal fire, Here in the city's ceaseless roar and din, Far from the brambly paths I used to know, Far from the rustling brooks that slip and shine Where the Neponset alders take their glow, I share the tremulous sense of bud and briar And inarticulate ardors of the vine.
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"When first the crocus thrusts its point of gold..."
Exploring the themes of classic, Thomas Bailey Aldrich delivers a powerful performance in "A Touch Of Nature"... ### Why We Love This Line At Linespedia, we believe that poetry is the ultimate sanctuary for the soul...