I saw a crocus blooming in the park,
I felt a hint of magic in the air,
I heard faint music sighing everywhere,
And so, as all the world, grew softly dark—
I found again the hope that never dies,
And hungrily, without-flung arms,
I came once more to you.
And when you spoke my name
I read springtime eternal in your eyes!
-from Crossroads by Margaret Sangster