Here you will find the Poem Sweet Springtime of poet George Eliot (Mary Ann Evans)
It was in the prime Of the sweet springtime In the linnet's throat Trembled the love note, And the love-stirred air Thrilled the blossoms there. Little shadows danced, Each a tiny elf Happy in large light And the thinnest self. It was but a minute In a far-off spring, But each gentle thing, Sweetly wooing linnet, Soft thrilled hawthorn tree, Happy shadowy elf, With the thinnest self, Live on still in me. It was in the prime Of the past springtime!
