"For behold, the winter is past...."

I have heard it said that Spring is a hazardous time for those inclined to depression, perhaps because optimism and hope can be so often dashed. But there is hope.

The year’s at the spring,
And day’s at the morn;
Morning’s at seven;
The hill-side’s dew-pearled;
The lark’s on the wing;
The snail’s on the thorn;
God’s in his Heaven—
All’s right with the world!
[Robert Browning, Pippa Passes, 1841]

Less brightly optimistic, but hopeful nonetheless:

April is the cruellest month, breeding
Lilacs out of the dead land, mixing
Memory and desire, stirring
Dull roots with spring rain.
Winter kept us warm, covering
Earth in forgetful snow, feeding
A little life with dried tubers.
[T.S. Eliot, The Wasteland, 1922]

The poetic excerpts were used in a Weekly Standard editorial this week.