Not meagre, latent boughs alone, O songs! (scaly and bare, like eagles’ talons,) But haply for some sunny day (who knows?) some future spring, some summer--bursting forth, To verdant leaves, or sheltering shade--to nourishing fruit, Apples and grapes--the stalwart limbs of trees emerging--the fresh, free, open air, And love and faith, like scented roses blooming.