Spring came with amber dawning light and crisp
And waked the mummer from his winter drowse
Hidden in several empty shadowed rooms
From painted wooden stair off cobbled street.
Spring came, or seemed it so when mummer roused,
Which in his sleep through seasons had not come before
And minded him despite his trance
Of one sweet vision clearer than the rest,
An elemental, goddess, crowned in sun,
That might have kindly smiled on him.
Charles Mackintosh
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-mummer/
