Laggard Spring

A poem by William Arthur Dunkerley

Winter hung about the ways,
Very loth to go.
Little Spring could not get past him,
Try she never so.

This side,--that side, everywhere,
Winter held the track.
Little Spring sat down and whimpered,
Winter humped his back.

Summer called her,--"Come, dear, come!
Why do you delay?"
"Come and help me, Sister Summer,
Winter blocks my way."

Little Spring tried everything,
Sighs and moans and tears,
Winter howled with mocking laughter,
Covered her with jeers.

Winter, rough old surly beggar,
Practised every vice,
Pelted her with hail and snow storms,
Clogged her feet with ice.

But, by chance at last they caught him
Unawares one day,
Tied his hands and feet, and dancing,
Sped upon their way.

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