Ballades and Rondeaus

To the Daffodil

O daffodil, flower saffron-gowned,
    Effulgent with the Sun-god’s gold,
Thou bring’st the joyous season round!

While yet the earth is blanched and browned,
    Thou dost thy amber leaves unfold,
O daffodil, flower saffron-gowned.

We see thee by yon mossy mound,
    Wave from thy stalks each pennon bold,—
Thou bring’st the joyous season round!

Fair child of April, promise-crowned,
    We longed for thee when winds were cold,
O daffodil, flower saffron-gowned.

Again we hear the merry sound
    Of sweet birds singing love-songs old,—
Thou bring’st the joyous season round!

Again we feel our hearts rebound
    With pleasures by thy birth foretold,—
O daffodil, flower saffron-gowned,
    Thou bring’st the joyous season round!

Clinton Scollard.