If over the sea we two were bound, What port, dear child, would we choose for ours This fairy gold of a million flowers. - very close at hand, ? Edith Matilda Thomas. SONG OF PRAISE. FAIREST of stars, last in the train of night. If better thou belong not to the dawn Sure pledge of day, that crown'st the smiling morn His praise, ye winds, that from four quarters blow, Bear on your wings, and in your notes, his praise. -John Milton. THE COMING OF SPRING. T HERE'S something in the air That's new and sweet and rare A scent of summer things, A whir as if of wings. There's something, too, that's new In the color of the blue That's in the morning sky, And though on plain and hill There's something seems to say And all this changing tint, And to-morrow or to-day And the next thing, in the woods, The catkins in their hoods Of fur and silk will stand, A sturdy little band. And the tassels soft and fine So, silently but swift, Once more, and yet once more, We see the bloom of birth Make young again the earth. - Nora Perry. THE MESSENGER OF SPRING. AIL, beauteous stranger of the grove! And woods thy welcome What time the daisy decks the green, Thy certain voice we hear; Hast thou a star to guide thy path, Or mark the rolling year? Delightful visitant! with thee I hail the time of flowers, And hear the sound of music sweet The schoolboy, wand'ring through the wood To pull the primrose gay, Starts, the new voice of spring to hear, And imitates thy lay. What time the pea puts on the bloom An annual guest in other lands, Sweet bird thy bower is ever green, Thy sky is ever clear; Thou hast no sorrow in thy song, Oh, could I fly, I'd fly with thee! Companions of the spring. -John Logan. I THE VOICE OF SPRING. COME, I come! ye have called me long; I come o'er the mountains, with light and song; Ye may trace my step o'er the waking earth I have breathed on the South, and the chestnut flowers And the ancient graves and the fallen fanes I have looked o'er the hills of the stormy North, And the reindeer bounds o'er the pastures free, And the moss looks bright, where my step has been. I have sent through the wood-paths a glowing sigh, From the streams and founts I have loosed the chain; - Felicia D. Hemans. SPRING. OOK all around thee! How the spring advances! LOOK New life is playing through the gay, green trees, See how, in yonder bower, the light leaf dances To the bird's tread, and to the quivering breeze! How every blossom in the sunlight glances! The winter-frost in his dark cavern flees, And earth, warm-wakened, feels through every vein The kindling influence of the vernal rain. |