 | The lost pleiad ; and other poems |  |
SPRING.
Thou art the fountain whence the crystal river
Of the warm year, from month to month, doth run,
Whose waves are days, which, flower-gemmed, flows forever
Out of the Golden Mountain of the Sun.
Of the warm year, from month to month, doth run,
Whose waves are days, which, flower-gemmed, flows forever
Out of the Golden Mountain of the Sun.
Thy warm flow greens the islands of the ocean,
Melting from off the streams their wintry chain—
As thou dost fill Man's heart with new emotion—
Bringing all dead things back to life again.
Melting from off the streams their wintry chain—
As thou dost fill Man's heart with new emotion—
Bringing all dead things back to life again.
Thou art the advent of those flowery treasures
Which in the grave of Winter once lay dead—
Bestowing youth on Earth—on Man those pleasures,
Which, with the Old Year, in the dust were laid.
Which in the grave of Winter once lay dead—
22
Which, with the Old Year, in the dust were laid.
Thou art an emblem of Man's resurrection
From the cold embrace of the silent tomb;
When his bright soul, with all the flower's perfection,
Shall meet his body in immortal bloom.
From the cold embrace of the silent tomb;
When his bright soul, with all the flower's perfection,
Shall meet his body in immortal bloom.
New York, April 20th, 1842.
| The lost pleiad ; and other poems | |