Poem: “When Tulips Bloom” by Henry Van Dyke

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American Literature – Children Books – American Poetry – Henry Van Dyke – Poems by Henry Van Dyke
< < < Roslin and Hawthornden
The Whip-Poor-Will > > >

When Tulips Bloom

I

When tulips bloom in Union Square,And timid breaths of vernal air Go wandering down the dusty town,Like children lost in Vanity Fair;

When every long, unlovely rowOf westward houses stands aglow, And leads the eyes to sunset skiesBeyond the hills where green trees grow;

Then weary seems the street parade,And weary books, and weary trade: I’m only wishing to go a-fishing;For this the month of May was made.

II

I guess the pussy-willows nowAre creeping out on every bough Along the brook; and robins lookFor early worms behind the plough.

The thistle-birds have changed their dun,For yellow coats, to match the sun; And in the same array of flameThe Dandelion Show’s begun.

The flocks of young anemonesAre dancing round the budding trees: Who can help wishing to go a-fishingIn days as full of joy as these?

III

I think the meadow-lark’s clear soundLeaks upward slowly from the ground, While on the wing the bluebirds ringTheir wedding-bells to woods around.

The flirting chewink calls his dearBehind the bush; and very near, Where water flows, where green grass grows,Song-sparrows gently sing, “Good cheer.”

And, best of all, through twilight’s calmThe hermit-thrush repeats his psalm. How much I’m wishing to go a-fishingIn days so sweet with music’s balm!

IV

‘Tis not a proud desire of mine;I ask for nothing superfine; No heavy weight, no salmon great,To break the record, or my line.

Only an idle little stream,Whose amber waters softly gleam, Where I may wade through woodland shade,And cast the fly, and loaf, and dream:

Only a trout or two, to dartFrom foaming pools, and try my art: ‘Tis all I’m wishing—old-fashioned fishing,And just a day on Nature’s heart.

1894.

< < < Roslin and Hawthornden
The Whip-Poor-Will > > >

American Literature – Children Books – American Poetry – Henry Van Dyke – Poems by Henry Van Dyke

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When Tulips Bloom

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