TO SPRING.
FROM THE DANISH.
Thy beams are sweet, beloved spring!
The winter-shades before thee fly;
The bough smiles green, the young birds sing,
The chainless current glistens by,
Till countless flowers like stars illume
The deepening vale and forest gloom.
O welcome, gentle guest from high,
Sent to cheer our world below,
To lighten sorrow’s faded eye,
To kindle nature’s social glow!
O, he is o’er his fellows blest
Who feels thee in a guiltless breast!
Peace to the generous heart essaying
With deeds of love to win our praise!
He smiles, the spring of life surveying,
Nor fears her cold and wintry days:
To his high goal with triumph bright
The calm years waft him in their flight.
Thou glorious goal, that shin’st afar,
And seem’st to smile us on our way,
Bright is the hope that crowns our war,
The dawn-blush of eternal day;
There shall we meet, this dark world o’er,
And mix in love for evermore.
Translation of W. S. Walker. Thomas Thaarup, 1749–1821.