Daffodils

A few tiny ones are blooming.

To An Early Daffodil

Thou yellow trumpeter of laggard Spring!

 Thou herald of rich Summer's myriad flowers!

 The climbing sun with new recovered powers

 Does warm thee into being, through the ring

 Of rich, brown earth he woos thee, makes thee fling 

Thy green shoots up, inheriting the dowers 

Of bending sky and sudden, sweeping showers, 

Till ripe and blossoming thou art a thing 

To make all nature glad, thou art so gay; 

To fill the lonely with a joy untold; 

Nodding at every gust of wind to-day,

 To-morrow jewelled with raindrops. 

 Always bold To stand erect, full in the dazzling play

Of April's sun, for thou hast caught his gold.

Amy Lowell