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1858–1924

TO A TULIP-BULB

Edith Nesbit

Sleep first, And let the storm and winter do their worst; Let all the garden lie Bare to the angry sky,

The shed leaves shiver and die Above your bed; Let the white coverlet Of sunlit snow be set

Over your sleeping head, While in the earth you sleep Where dreams are dear and deep, And heed nor wind nor snow,

Nor how the dark moons go. In this sad upper world where Winter’ s hand Has bound with chains of ice the weary land. Then wake

To see the whole world lovely for Spring’ s sake; The garden fresh and fair With green things everywhere, And winter’ s want and care

Banished and fled; Primrose and violet In every border set, With rain and sunshine fed.

Then bless the fairy song That cradled you so long, And bless the fairy kiss That wakened you to this —

A world where Winter’ s dead and Spring doth reign And lovers whisper in the budding lane.

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TO A TULIP-BULB · Edith Nesbit · Poetry Cove