The Sweet O' The Year.

I     How can I help from laughing while     The daffodilies at me smile;     The tickled dew winks tipsily     In clusters of the lilac-tree;     The crocuses and hyacinths     Storm through the grassy labyrinths     A mirth of gold and violet;      And roses, bud by bud,     Flash from each dainty-lacing net      Red lips of maidenhood?     II     How can I help from singing when     The swallow and the hawk again     Are noisy in the hyaline     Of happy heavens clear as wine;     The robin lustily and shrill     Pipes on the timber-bosomed hill;     And o'er the fallow skim the bold,      Mad orioles that glow     Like shining shafts of ingot gold      Shot from the morning's bow?     III     How can I help from loving, dear,     Since love is of the sweetened year?     The very vermin feel her power,     And chip and chirrup hour by hour:     It is the grasshopper at noon,     The cricket's at it in the moon,     Whiles lizzards glitter in the dew,      And bats be on the wing;     Such days of joy are short and few.      Grant me thy love this spring.