TO SPRING.
Hail, beauteous maiden, gentle spring!
I see thee slowly move,
On lowering wings, on yon green hill
From yon blue fields above.
Hail, beauteous Spring! my bosom swells
With joy to feel thee near,
Thy joyful advent now dispels
The winter, dark and drear.
Hail, beauteous Spring, the meads are green,
The lordly elms rejoice;
Yon river flashes in the light,
The springs send up a voice.
The blue-bird sings thy welcome sweet
From yonder blooming tree,
The redbreast pours his simple note,
A tribute glad, to thee.
The cuckoo comes to join thy train,
With his melodious lay,
Until his song, a rapture! runs
O'er all thy pleasant way.
Hail, heavenly Spring! a thousand throats,
Re-echo with thy praise;
Thou bring'st the time of flowers and light
Of bright and cloudless days.
Hail, beauteous earth! thou art the type
Returning with each year,
To tell us of another land
Whose sky is always clear.
All hail, bright spring, celestial maid!
Who fill'st my singing heart;
But never tongue or lyre shall speak
The Transport which thou art!