Shake off the winter's sleep, and haste to greet;
Where in the autumn the blue asters stood,
The saxifrage creeps out, with downy feet.
Nature is waking! From a wreath of snow,
Close by the garden walls, the snowdrop springs;
And the air rings with tender melodies,
Where thro' the dark firs flash the bluebird's wings.
A few days hence, and o'er the distant hills
A tender robe of verdure shall be spread,
And life in myriad forms be manifest,