The elements now sweetly rest,
Or with an infant’s strength are playing
Around the bark on ocean’s breast,
In that sweet spot with joy delaying.
Now in the gently breathing spring,
The south wind in its course hath found them;
And, like an insect’s fluttering wing,
But stirs the balmy air around them.
O, sweet spring time of life! how sad
The thought thou canst not always linger;