The day, like an unlicked bear whelp,
Does not know what it is. Therefore
It strruggles without momma's help
And gives the earliest encore
To spring that I have seen as yet
(And I have sprung, and summered too
And do not lightly, then, forget
How endless winter is to view).
I fear that somewhere Nature lurks
Ready to relick her cub
But for the moment, springtime works
If winter has to have a sub
And I'd be grateful if the lump
Should stay an unlicked, springy rump.
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