O day—if I could cup my hands and drink of you,
And make this shining wonder be
A part of me!
O day! O day!
You lift and sway your colors on the sky
Till I am crushed with beauty. Why is there
More of reeling sunlit air
Than I can breathe? Why is there sound
In silence? Why is a singing wound
About each hour?
And perfume when there is no flower?
O day! O Day! How may I press
Nearer to loveliness?
This poem is in the public domain. Published in Poem-a-Day on March 22, 2020, by the Academy of American Poets.
About this Poem
“Spring Morning” originally appeared in “Poetry,” (volume 19, 1922).
Marion Strobel was born in 1895.
Date Published: 1922-01-01
Source URL: https://poets.org/poem/spring-morning-0