Excerpt from Chosen Poems of Pegram Dargan

Now doth the gallant Spring
Publish in many a leaf,
Mocking old Time, the thief
Of every mortal thing,

Her Winter comes as soon,
And all her glory's past,
In one Autumnal waste
Her every leaf down blown!

But, for all that, she says,
'When comes 'round the season,
Though it be 'gainst reason,
I must seek the bays!'

Then, Muse, awake with Spring!
And, though it be beneath
The very throne of Death,
We'll dare awhile to sing!

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