Spring in Kansas
Make glad, make glad,
The Lord of growth has come,
The sun has half his northward journey done,
And in deep buried root moves the Spirit!
Upon the dark-earthed field
Fires of last years husks the farmer kindles--
Sacrifices to the Lord of growth;
Smoke rises to the blue heavens,
While hawk and solemn crow cut with long wing the
sparkling air,
And little birds do sing "Rejoice!
Rejoice! the springing life is here!"
For the sun, O brothers shines upon our land!
And winds, O sister blow over all our land!
Mounting sap now brightens trunk and tree and vine,
and every tip-most twig swells out its leaf buds:
The peach puts forth her bitter-tinted pink,
Red-bud empurples far each wooded stretch.
And by the magic of the lord of spring,
Stand orchards, very ghosts of winter snows, white-
cloaked in blossom.
And wheat, O sisters, greens in our rolling glebe,
And corn, O brothers, springs from its golden seed!
For sun-warmth and wind-strength and praise-God
rain are abroad in our land,
Three builders of worlds with the spirit go forth
hand in hand.
Make glad, make glad.
The Lord of growth has come.
The sun has near his northward journey run,
And in deep-buried roots moves life ever-living.
__Kate Stephens
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