Sweet Auburn: The Magazine of the Friends of Mount Auburn Mount Auburn as a Natural Habitat | Page 9

Sonnet
These rugged wintry days I scarce could bear,
Did I not know that in the early spring,
When wild March winds upon their errands sing,
Thou wouldst return, bursting on this still air,
Like those same winds, when, startled from their lair,
They hunt up violets and free swift brooks
From icy cares, even as thy clear looks
Bid my heart bloom and sing and break all care:
When drops with welcome rain the April day,
My flowers shall find their April in thine eyes;
But there the rain in dreamy clouds doth stay,
As loath to fall out of those happy skies;
And sure, my love, thou art most like to May,
That comes with steady sun when April dies.
—Maria White Lowell
The sonnet written by Maria White Lowell (1821-1853) was
first published anonymously in her husband James Russell
Lowell Poems in 1844. Written before their marriage, the
poem is alive with the passion of their courtship. It was
reprinted in the 1855 collected Poems of Maria Lowell, pri-
vately published by her husband after her early death from
tuberculosis. She
is buried in the
Lowell family lot
STRIPED SQUILL (Puschkinina scilloides)
#323 on Fountain
naturalizes where it is planted and is one of the
Avenue.
earliest bulbs to bloom. Look for it above Mag-
nolia Avenue near the monument for Senator
Edward Everett.
The bright yellow flowers of the WINTER AC-
ONITE (Eranthis hyemalis) emerge through
the leaves and melting snow. Look for these near
the intersection of Central and Chapel avenues.
The blue flowers of the groundcover VINCA or
periwinkle provide a backdrop for the daisy-
like blossoms of WINDFLOWER (Anemone
blanda). Find these both at Bigelow Chapel
Lawn.
Spring
The Spring is here – the delicate-footed May,
With its slight fingers full of leaves and flowers,
And with it comes a thirst to be away,
In lovelier scenes to pass these sweeter hours,
A feeling like the worm’s awakening wings,
Wild for companionship with swifter things.
—Nathaniel parker Willis
This is the first verse of the poem Spring by
Nathaniel Parker Willis (1806-1867). Willis,
born in Portland, Maine, and educated at Yale,
began his writing career in Boston. Later in
New York, he made his mark a man of social
grace and gained international prominence as
a journalist and editor. He built a celebrated
Gothic mansion and landscape that he named
“Idlewild,” near Newburgh in the Hudson
River Valley. He is buried with his family in
lot #972 on Spruce Avenue.
Winter 2006 | 7