Lines Written at a Small Distance from My House, and Sent by My Little Boy to the Person to Whom They Are Addressed + 

It is the first mild day of March: + 

Each minute sweeter than before, + 

The Red-breast sings from the tall Larch + 

That stands beside our door. + 

There is a blessing in the air, + 

Which seems a sense of joy to yield + 

To the bare trees, and mountains bare, + 

And grass in the green field. + 

My Sister! (’tis a wish of mine) + 

Now that our morning meal is done, + 

Make haste, your morning task resign; + 

Come forth and feel the sun. + 

Edward will come with you; and pray, + 

Put on with speed your woodland dress + 

And bring no book: for this one day + 

We’ll give to idleness. + 

No joyless forms shall regulate + 

Our living Calendar: + 

We from today, my Friend, will date + 

The opening of the year. + 

Love, now an universal birth, + 

From heart to heart is stealing, + 

From earth to man, from man to earth: + 

—It is the hour of feeling. + 

One moment now may give us more + 

Than fifty years of reason: + 

Our minds shall drink at every pore + 

The spirit of the season. + 

Some silent laws our hearts may make, + 

Which they shall long obey: + 

We for the year to come may take + 

Our temper from to-day. + 

And from the blessed power that rolls + 

About, below, above, + 

We’ll frame the measure of our souls: + 

They shall be tuned to love. + 

Then come, my Sister! come, I pray, + 

With speed put on your woodland dress; + 

—And bring no book: for this one day + 

We’ll give to idleness. + 