Song [All suddenly the wind comes soft,]

All suddenly the wind comes soft,
  And Spring is here again;
And the hawthorn quickens with buds of green,
  And my heart with buds of pain.

My heart all Winter lay so numb,
  The earth so dead and frore,
That i never thought the Spring would come,
  Or my heart wake any more.

But Winter's broken and earth has woken,
  And the small birds cry again;
And the hawthorn hedge puts forth its buds,
  And my heart puts forth its pain.

Published in The Collected Poems of Rupert Brooke

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