Songs, Ballads, and Other Poems :: :: University of Virginia Library

Tho' the summer may have roses
That outshine the buds of Spring,
Deeper shadows in the forest,
Blither birds upon the wing.
When I see a bright Spring morning,
After long, long days of gloom,
Summer seems to sport around me
In his infancy of bloom.

Oh! 'tis sad to see the splendour
Of the summer pass away,
When the night is always stealing
Precious moments from the day:
But in Spring each lengthened evening
Tempts us farther off from home,
And if summer has more beauty,
All that beauty is to come.

It is thus in manhood's summer,
That the heart too often grieves,
Over friends lost prematurely,
Like the fall of blighted leaves;

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But, life's spring-time is far sweeter,
When each green bud that appears
May expand into a blossom,
To enliven future years.

II. FASHION AND NATURE.

Cried Fashion once, that idle queen,
“The Spring I love, the balmy Spring!
When trees put on their palest green,
And feather'd songsters learn to sing!”
Dame Nature heard her, and replied
“If thus you speak, our quarrel ends,
Henceforth we'll wander side by side,
Fashion and Nature now are friends.”

So Fashion chose a flowing gown,
Her flimsy fancies to conceal;
And simple Nature went to town
To visit Fashion en famille.
She sought her in the gay saloon,
Where she had revelled all the night:
But Fashion did not rise at noon,
Her rouge looks best at candlelight.

Nature found nothing to her taste;
She pined with Fashion by her side;
Her own flowers in vases placed,
Like birds in cages, drooped and died.
To save her life she ran away,
And Fashion did not much regret
Her simple guest;—so since that day
Fashion and Nature have not met.

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III. FAIREST! WE HAIL THEE QUEEN OF THE MAY!

Queen of the May! how sweet is thy throne!
Nature herself hath lent thee her own.
Covet not gold and jewels of state;
Heed not their lustre; think of their weight!
Light are thy crown and regal array:
Fairest! we hail thee Queen of the May!

Queen of the May how gay is thy court,
Light-hearted beings thither resort;
Covet not halls that sparkle by night,
False are their garlands, false is their light!
Sunshine illumes thy festival day;
Fairest! we hail thee Queen of the May!

IV. COME OVER THE LAKE, LOVE!

Come over the lake, Love! come over the lake;
In yonder green island the Elves are awake,
Our bugles they'll hear—and their haunts they'll forsake:
Oh! blow the horn! oh! blow the horn!
Hark! fairies are replying!

Nay, laugh not at fairies, a dangerous jest;
They sport in these valleys when we are at rest;
I'll call them—you'll hear them—let this be the test:
Oh! blow the horn!—oh! blow the horn!
Hark! fairies are replying!

You say 'tis an echo—perhaps you can tell
What echoes are made of, and shew where they dwell?
If not—why my fairies at least do as well!
Oh! blow the horn!—oh! blow the horn!
Hark! fairies are replying!

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V. ALAS! YOUTH'S GAY SPRING MOMENTS PASS.

Alas!
Youth's gay Spring moments pass
Like sand through old Time's glass;
Where pleasure throws
Her sweetest rose,
To morrow comes a grief,
To spread the yellow leaf!
The fairest things
Have fleetest wings!
What then!—gay hearts to-night
May catch them in their flight.

Heigho!
How soon the step of woe
Mars beauty's sunlit snow!
E'en smiles are made
Old Time to aid,
For do not wrinkles tell
Where dimples used to dwell?
The fairest things
Have fleetest wings;
What then!—gay hearts to-night
May catch them in their flight.

VI. THE SPRING TIME OF THE YEAR.

Spring flowers are no longer
What spring flowers used to be;
Their fragrance and their beauty
Cannot give delight to me:

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The cowslip and the primrose
And the violet are here—
Ah! why am I dejected
In the Spring time of the year?

How well do I remember
When I chased dull sleep away,
To give an early welcome
To the merry month of May!
My footstep on the meadow
Was the first to rouse the deer,
Ah! then I hailed each blossom
In the Spring time of the year!

All seasons are delightful
In life's gay unclouded spring,
We sport among the flowers
Like wild birds upon the wing:
But when life's bloom is over,
And no friendly smile is near,
Oh! dreary as December
Is the Spring time of the year!

VII. UP! MARCH AWAY!

Shall the warrior rest, when so near him
The flag of the foe is unfurled?
No! the sweets of repose shall not cheer him,
'Till that flag from its station be hurled.
His night-cloak round him folding,
He will watch the dawn of day,
And the first sun's beam beholding,
He will cry—“Up! March away!”

In the night as his watch-path he paces,
He pauses and leans on his spear,
And he thinks of kind friends and loved places,
'Till down his pale cheek steals a tear!

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Awhile with deep devotion,
For the absent he will pray;
But how transient his emotion,
Hark! he cries—“Up! March away!”

VIII. THE FORWARD SPRING.

Spring once was impatient of schooling and nursing,
And grew very fine for a season so young;
Her playthings she scorned, artificially forcing
The charms of her person, the wit of her tongue.
Her snowdrops neglecting, her roses displaying,
And singing as summer birds only should sing;
She smiled, and the world her attractions surveying,
Declared it had ne'er seen so forward a Spring!

But soon this same world, which is never unwilling
To lower pretensions it sanctioned in haste,
Perceived that her mornings and evenings were chilling,
And all her forced fruit was found wanting in taste.
“Alas!” cried the young year, “the charms that I boasted
If lavished too early, too early decay,
I've lost the pure pleasure of Spring, and exhausted
The green leaves that might have made Summer look gay.”

And now I will venture to look for a moral,
In this little song, which so simple appears;
Go childhood and play with your bells and your coral,
And sigh not for pleasures unfit for your years:
Though infancy, tutored by art prematurely,
May imitate man in look, action, and tone;
Life's Summer will not be forestall'd, and, too surely,
The charm of life's Spring-time for ever is gone!