Sonnet Lxxii. Spring, When Young Flowers Peep, But The Frost Nippeth Keen. Poem by Henry Alford

Spring should be drest in emblem quaint and shy;
A troop of rosy girls escaped from bed
For very wantonness of play, should tread
The garden--paths; one tucks her night--robe high,
The dewy freshness of the lawn to try;
Some have been bolder, and unclothed and bright
The group is seen in the moon's mellow light;
Some, scattered, gaze upon the trees and sky.
But there should be that turn with hurried glance
Beckoning their playmates, where by a side--path
Between the shrubs is seen to half--advance
The moody widow lodger; who in wrath
Is sure to scatter all their stealthy play,
And they will rue it ere the break of day.