First Sight of Spring. 
By Clare, John.

The hazel blooms, in threads of crimson hue,
Peep through the swelling buds and look for spring
Ere yet a whitethorn leaf appears in view
Or March finds throstles pleased enough to sing
On the old touchwood tree woodpeckers cling
A moment and their harsh-toned notes renew.
In happier mood the stockdove claps his wing
The squirrel sputters up the powdered oak
With tail cocked o'er his head and ears erect
Startled to hear the woodman's understroke
And with the courage that his fears collect
He hisses fierce, half malice and half glee,
Leaping from branch to branch about the tree
In winter's foliage moss and lichens drest