 | The lost pleiad ; and other poems |  |
SONG TO SPRING.
“Thou dost wake, Oh, Spring!
Oh! child of many winds!”—
Shelley.
Oh! child of many winds!”—
Shelley.
I am glad the Spring has come,
For my soul will now feel bright,
As it did at mine own home
In the sunny land of light.
For my soul will now feel bright,
As it did at mine own home
In the sunny land of light.
For the pregnant sod now heaves
Of the gentle, joyful earth;
And the flowers, with tender leaves,
From her labor now come forth.
Of the gentle, joyful earth;
And the flowers, with tender leaves,
From her labor now come forth.
When the warm hands of the Spring
Shall have strewn the world with flowers,
Then the sweet song-birds will sing
In the shadows of green bowers.
Shall have strewn the world with flowers,
Then the sweet song-birds will sing
In the shadows of green bowers.
We shall have no more of rain,
Nor of winter, nor of snow;
But our hearts will, all, again,
Be as glad as mine is now.
Nor of winter, nor of snow;
But our hearts will, all, again,
Be as glad as mine is now.
When the sun looks bright at morn,
I begin to feel me near
The bright land where I was born,
In the sunny South so dear.
I begin to feel me near
The bright land where I was born,
In the sunny South so dear.
Ah! that is the land for me!
Where the sunshine brings delight,
And the woods look like the sea,
And the skies are ever bright.
Where the sunshine brings delight,
And the woods look like the sea,
And the skies are ever bright.
I must leave this frozen North,
Though the land has mighty men—
And go to my native earth,
In the sunny South again.
Though the land has mighty men—
And go to my native earth,
In the sunny South again.
New York, April 1st, 1841.
| The lost pleiad ; and other poems | |