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THE WINTER BEING OVER.
The winter being over,
This may learn
Them that mourn,
But those that are contented
He therefore that sustaineth
They that faint
Of wind and rain and icy chill,
Of sunlight poured on lake and hill. No beast or bird in earth or sky,
Whose voice doth not with gladness thrill; For Time hath laid his mantle by
Of wind and rain and icy chill.
CHARLES OF ORLEANS.
For if they could with patience
But if the mind
He that is melancholy,
Sparks of joy
Fly away ;
RETURN OF SPRING.
[Translation.] God shield ye, heralds of the spring, Ye faithful swallows, fleet of wing,
Houps, cuckoos, nightingales, Turtles, and every wilder bird, That make your hundred chirpings heard
Through the green woods and dales. God shield ye, Easter daisies all, Fair roses, buds, and blossoms small,
And he whom esst the gore Of Ajax and Narciss did print, Ye wild thyme, anise, balm, and mint,
I welcome ye once more. God shield ye, bright embroidered train Of butterflies, that on the plain
Of each sweet herblet sip; And ye, new swarms of bees, that go Where the pink flowers and yellow grow
To kiss them with your lip.
A hundred thousand times I call
Shall we have, for laughter A hearty welcome on ye all ;
Freely shouted to the woods, till allthe echoes ring. This season how I love
Send the children up
To the high hill's top,
To woo spring's caresses.
See, the birds together,
Worship God (for he is God of birds as well as
And each feathered neighbor The cock is crowing,
Enters on his labor, The stream is flowing,
Sparrow, robin, redpole, finch, the linnet, and the The sinall birds twitter, The lake doth glitter,
As the year advances, The green field sleeps in the sun ;
Trees their naked branches The oldest and youngest
Clothe, and seek your pleasure in their green apAre at work with the strongest;
parel. The cattle are grazing,
Insect and wild beast Their heads never raising ;
Keep no Lent, but feast; There are forty feeding like one !
Spring breathes upon the earth, and their joy 's
increased, Like an army defeated
And the rejoicing birds break forth in one loud The snow hath retreated,
carol. And now doth fare ill On the top of the bare hill ;
Ah, come and woo the spring ; The plough-boy is whooping anon! List to the birds that sing; There's joy on the mountains ;
Pluck the primroses; pluck the violets ; There's life in the fountains ;
Pluck the daisies, Small clouds are sailing,
Sing their praises; Blue sky prevailing;
Friendship with the flowers some noble thought The rain is over and gone !
Come forth and gather them yourselves ;
Learn of these gentle flowers whose worth is more
than gold. Laud the first spring daisies ; Chant aloud their praises ;
Come, come into the wood ; Send the children up
Pierce into the bowers To the high hill's top;
Of these gentle flowers, Tax not the strength of their young hands Which, not in solitude To increase your lands.
Dwell, but with cach other keep socicty : Gather the primroses,
And with a simple piety, Make handfuls into posies ;
Are ready to be woven into garlands for the good. Take them to the little girls who are at work in Or, upon summer carth, mills :
To die, in virgin worth ; Pluck the violets blue,
Or to be strewn before the bride, Ah, pluck not a few !
And the bridegroom, by her side. Knowest thou what good thoughts from Heaven the violet instils ?
Come forth on Sundays ;
Come forth on Mondays; Give the children holidays,
Come forth on any day ; (And let these be jolly days)
Children, come forth to play :Grant freedoin to the children in this joyous Worship the God of Nature in your childhood ; spring;
Worship him at your tasks with best endeavor ; Better men, hereafter,
Worship him in your sports ; worship him cver;
Worship him in the wildwood ;
Eager to taste the honeyed spring And float amid the liquid noon : Some lightly o'er the current skim, Some show their gayly gilded trim
Quick-glancing to the sun.
To Contemplation's sober eye
Such is the race of man ; And they that creep, and they that fly
Shall end where they began. Alike the busy and the gay But flutter through life's little day, In Fortune's varying colors drest : Brushed by the hand of rough mischance Or chilled by age, their airy dance
They leave, in dust ta rest.
ÁGAIN the violet of our early days
Methinks I hear in accents low
The sportive kind reply: Poor moralist ! and what art thou !
A solitary fly! Thy joys no glittering female meets, No hive hast thou of hoarded sweets, No painted plumage to display ; On hasty wings thy youth is flown ; Thy sun is set, thy spring is gone,
We frolic while 't is May.
Found, it seems, the halcyon morn
rosy Spring Gives to the breeze her scented wing, While virgin graces, warm with May, Fling roses o'er her dewy way. The murmuring billows of the deep Have languished into silent sleep; And mark! the flitting sea-birds lave Their plumes in the reflecting wave; While cranes from hoary winter fly To flutter in a kinder sky. Now the genial star of day Dissolves the murky clouds away, And cultured field and winding stream Are freshly glittering in his beam.
Away, away, from men and towns,
Radiant Sister of the Day,
PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY.
Now the earth prolific swells
ANACREON (Greek). Translation
of THOMAS MOORE.
SPRING, THE SWEET SPRING.
SPRING, the sweet spring, is the year's pleasant
king; Then bloomseach thing, then maids danceinaring, Cold doth not sting, the pretty birds do sing,
Cuckoo, jug-jug, pu-we, to-witta-woo !
The palm and may make country houses gay,
The fields breathe sweet, the daisies kiss our feet,
Spring ! the sweet spring !
Best and brightest, come away,
SEE, the flowery spring is blown,
Come, Aurelia, come and see
Fairer and brighter spreads the reign of day;
The tresses of the woods
And the full-brimming floods,
JAMES GATES PERCIVAL.
Come with all thy sweetest wiles,
THEY COME! THE MERRY SUMMER
They come! the merry summer months of
beauty, song, and flowers ;
They come! the gladsome months that bring
thick leatiness to bowers. Yes, Aurelia, come away.
JOHN DYER. Up, up, my heart ! and walk abroad; fling cark
and care aside ;
waters glide ;
Or, underneath the shadow vast of patriarchal
tree, Now the bright morning star, day's harbinger,
Scan through its leaves the cloudless sky in rapt
The grass is soft, its velvet touch is grateful to
the hand; Mirth and youth and warm desire ; Woods and groves are of thy dressing,
And, like the kiss of maiden love, the breeze is
sweet and bland ; Hill and dale doth boast thy blessing. Thus we salute thee with our carly song,
The daisy and the buttercup are nodding cour
teously ; And welcome thee, and wish thee long.
It stirs their blood with kindest love, to bless
and welcome thee;
they now are silvery gray -
That blissful breeze is wantoning, and whisper
“Be gay!” I FEEL a newer life in every gale ; The winds that fan the flowers,
There is no cloud that sails along the ocean of And with their welcome breathings fill the sail,
Tell of serener hours, of hours that glide unfelt away
But hath its own winged mariners to give it
melody; Beneath the sky of May.
Thou seest their glittering fans outspread, all
gleaming like ved gold ; The spirit of the gentle south-wind calls And hark ! with shrill pipe musical, their merry From his blue throne of air,
course they hold. And where his whispering voice in music falls, God bless them all, those little ones, who, far Beauty is budding there ;
above this earth, The bright ones of the valley break Can make a scoff of its mean joys, and vent a Their slumbers, and awake.
The waving verdure rolls along the plain,
And the wide forest weaves,
A canopy of leaves ;
But soft ! mine ear upcaught a sound, — from
yonder wood it came !
own glad name;
all his kind,