THE PARK IN SPRING

The vivid grass with visible delight
   Springing triumphant from the pregnant earth;
The butterflies, and sparrows in brief flight
   Chirping and dancing for the season's birth,
And dandelions and rare daffodils
   That hold the deep-stirred heart with hands of gold

And thrushes sending forth their joyous trills;
   Not these, not these did I at first behold;
But, seated on the benches daubed with green,
   The human derelicts, some fast asleep,
With here and there a woman wedged between,
   And, over all, life's shadows dark and deep:
      Moaning I turned away, for misery
      I have the strength to bear but not to see.