If I might see another Spring
        I'd not plant summer flowers and wait:
I'd have my crocuses at once,
My leafless pink mezereons,
        My chill-veined snowdrops, choicer yet
        My white or azure violet,
Leaf-nested primrose; anything
        To blow at once not late.

If I might see another Spring
        I'd listen to the daylight birds
That build their nests and pair and sing,
Nor wait for mateless nightingale;
        I'd listen to the lusty herds,
        The ewes with lambs as white as snow,
I'd find out music in the hail
        And all the winds that blow.

If I might see another Spring--
        O stinging comment on my past
That all my past results in "if"--
        If I might see another Spring
I'd laugh to-day, to-day is brief;
        I would not wait for anything:
        I'd use to-day that cannot last,
        Be glad to-day and sing.