To Spring by William BlakeO Thou with dewy locks, who lookest downThrough the clear windows of the morning, turnThine angel eyes upon our western isle,Which in full choir hails thy approach, O Spring!The hills tell one another, and the listeningValleys hear; all our longing eyes are turn'dUp to thy bright pavilions: issue forthAnd let thy holy feet visit our clime!Come o'er the eastern hills, and let our windsKiss thy perfumed garments; let us tasteThy morn and evening breath; scatter thy pearlsUpon our lovesick land that mourns for thee.O deck her forth with thy fair fingers; pourThy soft kisses on her bosom; and putThy golden crown upon her languish'd head,Whose modest tresses are bound up for thee.
It has been a long time since I gave any kind of update around here. This time of year has me raring to get started on too many projects! But first, a look back at the last few months:

