Another Spring

If I might see another Spring
 I'd not plant summer flowers and wait:
 I'd have my crocuses at once,
 My leafless pink mezereons,
 My chill-veined snowdrops, choicer yet
 My white or azure violet,
 Leaf-nested primrose; anything
 To blow at once, not late.
 If I might see another Spring
 I'd listen to the daylight birds
 That build their nests and pair and sing,
 Nor wait for mateless nightingale;
 I'd listen to the lusty herds,
 The ewes with lambs as white as snow,
 I'd find out music in the hail
 And all the winds that blow.
 If I might see another Spring—
 Oh stinging comment on my past
 That all my past results in 'if'—
 If I might see another Spring
 I'd laugh to-day, to-day is brief;
 I would not wait for anything:
 I'd use to-day that cannot last,
 Be glad to-day and sing.