Spring! midst the murmurs of thy flowering trees,
Why, why revivest thou these?
Vain longings for the dead!—why come they back
With thy young birds, and leaves, and living blooms?
Oh! is it not, that from thine earthly track
Hope to thy world may look beyond the tombs?
Yes, gentle Spring! no sorrow dims thine air,
Breathed by our loved ones there!
THE ILLUMINATED CITY.
The hills all glow’d with a festive light,