Spring from grey winter's arms now leaps again,
A rainbow child on either flower-like hand,
And, following, a careless sunny train
Of poets scattering lays throughout the land.
Look! like a green elf whistling wistfully
Upon a reed-stem, Pan meanders there.
Orpheus and Pallas surely, too, I see
Out of the spring fling joy upon the air;
While, like a host of revellers' clashing din
Of lyre and lute and harp and flute along,
Poet on poet, rhyme on rhyme begin --
All lost in fragrance, honey, flower, and song.
First published in The Sydney Morning Herald, 29 August 1925
