Helen Hunt Jackson

(18 October 1830 – 12 August 1885 / Amherst, Massachusetts)

A Calendar Of Sonnets: March - Poem by Helen Hunt Jackson

Month which the warring ancients strangely styled
The month of war,--as if in their fierce ways
Were any month of peace!--in thy rough days
I find no war in Nature, though the wild
Winds clash and clang, and broken boughs are piled
As feet of writhing trees. The violets raise
Their heads without affright, without amaze,
And sleep through all the din, as sleeps a child.
And he who watches well may well discern
Sweet expectation in each living thing.
Like pregnant mother the sweet earth doth yearn;
In secret joy makes ready for the spring;
And hidden, sacred, in her breast doth bear
Annunciation lilies for the year.

Comments about A Calendar Of Sonnets: March by Helen Hunt Jackson

  • Rookie - 10 Points Herman Chiu (8/28/2009 5:05:00 PM)

    beautiful, but i like january better (Report) Reply

    1 person liked.
    0 person did not like.
Read all 1 comments »

Read this poem in other languages

This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.

I would like to translate this poem »

word flags

What do you think this poem is about?

Read poems about / on: war, spring, nature, child, peace, mother, sleep, joy, children, tree, wind

Poem Submitted: Friday, January 3, 2003

[Hata Bildir]