Mud Time

No more shall ringing hoofbeat pound
The rutty road; no more shall sound
The echo winter’s play recalls;
But sun shall sear from skyey walls,
And browning ooze shall clog the tread,
And fear shall violate the bed
Of peace, and malcontent the heart
Shall know — and anger’s restless dart.
Be brave, my heart, and strong to sing:
‘This brings the spring . . .’