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SPRING TIME.
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SPRING TIME.

Now's the time when Winter's going
From the bowers he blighted long;
Now's the time when Spring is glowing,
Breathing into bloom and song;
When green buds are hourly springing,
In soft bed and sunny vale;

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When the merry birds are singing,
Fearless, round the cottage pale;
And, a long-expected comer,
From the gardens of the south,
Swims in sight the blushing Summer,
Sweet in smiles and warm in youth.
Gladsome notes are floating by us,
And from earth a murmur steals,
Softly, which must still ally us
To the clod that breathes and feels.
Life is round us in the breezes,
In the ground a labor grows,
And the humblest motion pleases,
That from living fountain flows.
Stagnant now no more, and frozen,
Lo! the waters flash and run,
And the lake unfetter'd glows in
The new glances of the sun.
Stoop to earth the ear and listen;
Hark! the murmur from below;
Lift the upward eyes—they glisten
With the rich and rosy glow.
Wide and wondrous is the dwelling
Where the lovely builder works,
And the murmur upward swelling,
Tells us where her agent lurks.
Prompt and ready at her summons,
When the signal sounds of spring,
Lo! arise her peers and commons,
Fleet of foot and wild of wing,
In the mansions long forsaken,
Free to spin, to build, and moil;

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Now they gather, glad to waken,
Though they waken still to toil.
From their labor grows their treasure,
Silken robes and honeyed spring;
And their very toil is pleasure,
Since they fly, and flying sing.
Yet, throughout her vast dominions,
What unequal forms appear!
Some on gold and purple pinions,
Seem the princes of the air.
Sweets from others' toils assessing,
Stooping only to partake
The rich juice and luscious blessing,
Which they never stoop to make.
Like the lily near the fountain,
Neither do they toil nor spin,
Yet, in joy and splendor mounting,
Life and happiness they win:
Flying ever round the summit,
Heedless of the tribes, that low,
Ply the shovel, dip the plummet,
Grope in earth, and groping, grow.
'Twere meet answer to repining,
Did the lowly grub deplore—
“These were made for soaring, shining,
Shining, singing, as they soar.
When thou wear'st a golden pinion,
Bright like that which soars so free,
Thou shalt have a like dominion,
And the grub shall toil for thee.”