The young girl, in delight, took the lovely blossoms, rosy and purple, golden and white, and twined them in her fair locks, and hung them in garlands round her white neck; and still they were opening by thousands, till the pine-tree hollow was filled with them.
Presently the girl spied a beautiful carved casket, which had been hidden under a pile of spicy leaves, and from inside of it came a rustling sound, the softest sound that was ever heard.
She lifted the lid, and out flew a cloud of butterflies.
Rainbow-tinted, softly, glitteringly, gayly fluttering, out they flew by thousands and thousands, and hovered about the maiden’s head; and the soft sound of their wings, which mortal ears are too dull to hear, seemed to say, “Welcome! welcome!”
At the same moment a great flock of beautiful birds came, flying, and lighted on the branches all around, and they, too, sang, “Welcome! welcome!”
The maiden clasped her hands and cried, “Why are you all so glad to see me? I feel—I know—that you are all mine, and I am yours; but how is it? Who am I? What is my name?”
And birds and flowers and rainbow-hued butterflies and sombre pine-trees all answered in joyous chorus, “Spring! the beautiful, the long-expected! Hail to the maiden Spring!”
A LESSON SONG.
Bow down, green Forest, so fair and good,