[Not really a redux to be honest but a rewrite of Charlotte Turner Smith’s Snowdrops using the same sort of structure but a more modern theme]
WAN Heralds of the Sun and Summer gale!
That seem just fallen from infant Zephyrs’ wing;
Not now, as once, with heart reviv’d I hail
Your modest buds, that for the brow of Spring
Form the first simple garland — Now no more
Escaping for a moment all my cares,
Shall I, with pensive, silent step explore
The woods yet leafless; where to chilling airs
Your green and pencil’d blossoms, trembling, wave.
Ah! ye soft, transient, children of the ground,
More fair was she on whose untimely grave
Flow my unceasing tears! Their varied round
The Seasons go; while I through all repine:
For fixt regret, and hopeless grief are mine.
Wan Heralds of the sun and summer gale!
The chavs head out for nights of fun,
Brief clothing show’s goose-fleshed limbs all sunless pale,
Booze flows, fists fly and blood does run,
Garlands of cuffs circle tattooed wrists,
Sirens scream and coppers shout,
Battling with drunken red mists,
As chavettes stand and watch and pout,
A spring night in another town,
The gutters flow with blood and sick,
Paramedics bend and frown,
Before carting off another injured prick,
All the courts will do is hand down a fine,
So fix’d regret, and hopeless grief are mine.