![]() | Poetical fragments of the late Richard Alfred Millikin | ![]() |
SONNET TO SPRING.
Now the grim wint'ry prospect cheers apace,And frequent buds Spring's soft approach declare;
Her rosy steps once more with joy I trace
Along the meadows late so bleak and bare,
And mark the hours her purple wreaths prepare;
By primrose hedge, or violet spangled slope,
With which the morning trims her shining hair;
When snow-drops pure their dewy eye-lids ope,
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Of wilding tufts, with coral gems o'erlaid;
Whilst all around I view the grassy scope
With tinkling flocks and browsing herds bespread,
Forgetful of the pinching northern gale
That strip'd with icy hand, each hill and flow'ry vale.
![]() | Poetical fragments of the late Richard Alfred Millikin | ![]() |