O’er earth to kindle seem.
THE SPRING STORM.
I love the storm in early May,
When spring’s first maiden thunder peals,
And, laughing in its frolic play,
Across the blue sky softly steals.
The little rumblings roll and ring;
The rain-shower glistens; flies the dust;
The rain-drop pearls in clusters cling,
And golden gleams the fields encrust.