Stirring suddenly from long hibernation I knew myself once more a poet Guarded by timeless principalities Against the worm of death, this hillside haunting; And presently dared open both my eyes. O gracious, lofty, shone against from under, Back-of-the-mind-far clouds like towers, And you, sudden warm airs that blow Before the expected season of new blossom, While sheep still gnaw at roots and lambless go Be witness that on waking, this mid-winter, I found her hand in mine laid closely Who shall watch out the Spring with me. We stared in silence all around us But found no winter anywhere to see.