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163
A SONG OF SPRING.
“Then came the lusty Spring, all dight in flowres,
That freshly budded and new bloomes did beare,
In which a thousand birds had built their bowres,
That sweetly sing.”
Faerie Queen.
That freshly budded and new bloomes did beare,
In which a thousand birds had built their bowres,
That sweetly sing.”
Faerie Queen.
A song for the jocund spring,
A song for the bright-vein'd flowers,
A song for the freedom of beauty's train,
From the thrall of the wintry hours.
A song for the bright-vein'd flowers,
A song for the freedom of beauty's train,
From the thrall of the wintry hours.
A song in the greenwood shade,
A song in the sunny air,
A song of free, triumphant joy,
For the advent of all things fair.
A song in the sunny air,
A song of free, triumphant joy,
For the advent of all things fair.
164
Over the wakening earth,
Wood, meadow, mountain lone,
The spirit of life unseen hath pass'd,
And her veil of verdure thrown.
Wood, meadow, mountain lone,
The spirit of life unseen hath pass'd,
And her veil of verdure thrown.
She hath call'd each wanderer back,
And her presence, like a spell,
Hath summon'd her subject blossoms forth,
Each from its secret cell.
And her presence, like a spell,
Hath summon'd her subject blossoms forth,
Each from its secret cell.
The dewy primrose stars
In the shadowy grass are shining,
The honeysuckle, round the thorn,
Its tendrils green is twining.
In the shadowy grass are shining,
The honeysuckle, round the thorn,
Its tendrils green is twining.
The purple fox-glove rears
Its bells 'mid the branching fern;
Again its wonted sweetness breathes
From the white vale-lily's urn.
Its bells 'mid the branching fern;
Again its wonted sweetness breathes
From the white vale-lily's urn.
165
And the violet's odour floats
Like a cloud of incense round,
While merrily hums the wandering bee
Where the wild thyme strews the ground.
Like a cloud of incense round,
While merrily hums the wandering bee
Where the wild thyme strews the ground.
A song for the jocund spring,
A song for its wild, sweet strains,—
For the glad, resounding melodies
That thrill thro' its green domains.
A song for its wild, sweet strains,—
For the glad, resounding melodies
That thrill thro' its green domains.
Hark! from yon old oak bough,
The merle its lay is trilling,
And a thousand notes are heard afar,
The air with music filling.
The merle its lay is trilling,
And a thousand notes are heard afar,
The air with music filling.
A thousand notes of joy,
That mingle with the low,
Melodious murmur of the wind,
And the river's rippling flow.
That mingle with the low,
Melodious murmur of the wind,
And the river's rippling flow.
166
Bright wings are flitting past,
As of spirits from fairy land,
Gleaming with colours more glorious far
Than glow 'neath the painter's hand.
As of spirits from fairy land,
Gleaming with colours more glorious far
Than glow 'neath the painter's hand.
The May-fly by the stream,
Sports in the sunny light;
The dragon-fly darts rustling by
In its swift and arrowy flight.
Sports in the sunny light;
The dragon-fly darts rustling by
In its swift and arrowy flight.
And when evening's shades descend,
And the stars their vigil keep,
The droning beetle and dappled moth
Awake from their torpid sleep.
And the stars their vigil keep,
The droning beetle and dappled moth
Awake from their torpid sleep.
A song for the year's bright youth,
For that gay, rejoicing time,
When nature is fraught with a dearer charm
Than in summer's golden prime.
For that gay, rejoicing time,
When nature is fraught with a dearer charm
Than in summer's golden prime.
167
When loveliness looks forth
From each nook in the laughing land,
And Hope and Gladness walk the earth,
Twin genii, hand in hand.
From each nook in the laughing land,
And Hope and Gladness walk the earth,
Twin genii, hand in hand.
When a tear, but not of grief,
Is seen in the old man's eye,
As with grateful heart he gazes round,
And thinks of the days gone by.
Is seen in the old man's eye,
As with grateful heart he gazes round,
And thinks of the days gone by.
And again the voice is heard
Of the child in its merry play,
Chasing the bee and the butterfly
Thro' meadow and wood away.
Of the child in its merry play,
Chasing the bee and the butterfly
Thro' meadow and wood away.
A song for the jocund spring,
For its mirth-imparting hours,
And its memories of those pleasant times
When life was wreath'd with flowers.
For its mirth-imparting hours,
And its memories of those pleasant times
When life was wreath'd with flowers.
168
A song for the jocund spring,
For its thoughts and fancies rare—
A song of free, triumphant joy,
For the advent of all things fair.
For its thoughts and fancies rare—
A song of free, triumphant joy,
For the advent of all things fair.
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