Edmund Clarence Stedman, ed. (1833–1908). An American Anthology, 1787–1900. 1900.

By EvaleenStein

1506 Budding-Time Too Brief

O LITTLE buds, break not so fast!

The spring’s but new.

The skies will yet be brighter blue,

And sunny too.

I would you might thus sweetly last

Till this glad season’s overpast,

Nor hasten through.

It is so exquisite to feel

The light warm sun;

To merely know the winter done,

And life begun;

And to my heart no blooms appeal

For tenderness so deep and real,

As any one

Of these first April buds, that hold

The hint of spring’s

Rare perfectness that May-time brings.

So take not wings!

Oh, linger, linger, nor unfold

Too swiftly though the mellow mould,

Sweet growing things!

And errant birds, and honey-bees,

Seek not to wile;

And, sun, let not your warmest smile

Quite yet beguile

The young peach-boughs and apple-trees

To trust their beauty to the breeze;

Wait yet awhile!