All faintly through my soul to-day, As from a bell that far away Is tinkled by some frolic fay, Floateth a lovely chiming. Thou magic bell, to many a fell And many a winter-saddened dell Thy tongue a tale of Spring doth tell, Too passionate-sweet for rhyming.
Chime out, thou little song of Spring, Float in the blue skies ravishing. Thy song-of-life a joy doth bring That's sweet, albeit fleeting. Float on the Spring-winds e'en to my home: And when thou to a rose shalt come That hath begun to show her bloom, Say, I send her greeting!
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📖 About this poem
This little poem is a translation—Lanier working from Herder's German—and it moves the way a spring breeze does: light, brief, eager to be somewhere else. The whole thing is built around a single conceit: Spring's arrival is a distant bell, "tinkled by some frolic fay," its chime drifting through the poet's soul before he can quite explain why he feels lighter. That image of sound as the first sign of season, rather than sight, is the poem's freshest touch—you hear Spring before you see it. The music helps too; short rhymed lines with a bouncy, almost nursery-rhyme lilt make the poem feel like it's chiming as it describes chiming. The ending turns tender and specific: the speaker asks the song to seek out a rose just opening and deliver his greeting, turning a nature poem into a quiet love note. It still lands because that mix—seasonal joy shadowed by its own fleetingness—is a feeling anyone waiting for warmer days recognizes instantly.
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