The Sowing

Spring-Fort Sheridan

Placid breezes sauntering

Over a lake of glass,

Kissing the pouting elm-buds,

Patting the new grass;

Turquoise overhead,

Swimming May skies-

("Trench-knives are top-hole

For gouging out their eyes!")

J. Van Alstyne Weaver, Jr.

Great bees, clover-laden,

Solemnly drone past;

All the fresh world shouts

Of spring come at last.

Bobolinks, meadowlarks

Bursting with May-

("If you can't pull the bayonet out,

Shoot the body away!")

J. Van Alstyne Weaver, Jr.