Charles Bertram Johnson, "In March" (1906)
The last chill wind brought snow and ice and sleet;
Like Christmas trees a dawn from Christmas night
The forest were a wreath of silvern white;
At morn the sun burst full with glimmering heat,
The South wind waft, across the greening wheat,
A robin's note to cheer my heart's dim night;
Borne back to answer him my soul's first flight
This tribute to his vernal song's high beat:
Didst thou from Hope's high minaret foresee
Wild March with sheeted, icy hands of storm
Would wake the trees and set the sap-life free?
The faith of thy frail song-insistent, clear,
Though faltering notes, hath made the day less drear.
Published in Colored American Magazine, March 1906