Spring

Spring

`Tis Spring and Winter in his iron car,

Has wheel'd his progress to the arctic shores,
Now Ursus wafts his balmy gales from far,
And Sol his warm and bright effulgence pours
And see, Old Frost, his prison gates unbar;
Each captive he to liberty restores;
Though reft of vesture soon each flow'r will bloom,
With heighten'd grace, a fairer coat resume.

The birds that late were flown to southern plains,
Now carol blithely on each forest spray,
Waking with joy their animating strains,
In choral glee at earliest burst of day.
Oh, happy hour! another Eden reigns
At day-spring time when Phoebus' golden ray,
Gleams o'er the groves, and tips the verdant hills,
Pierces the vales, sheds effluence on the rills.

The jocund lambkins gambol in their glee
A thousand ways in mimic sport they hie,
All unrestrain'd for nature's heirs are free,
And these of all enjoy their purity.
Ye types of innocence! Ah, would that we
In this, that principle might with ye vie,
But no, if pure at first, how soon we change,
Leave Virtue's path, and still inconstant range.

Dear, transient, Spring? I love thy balmy breeze,
I love thy verdure and thy fragrant grove,
Thine are the beauties that can truly please,
And make the spirit of the coldest move,
Thou sweet and tranquility time of ease?
Sigh soft thy gales around my fair's alcove,
And hearts in unison shall own thy reign,
And musing Memory thy sweets retain.

Arion

2:4, p. 27

1828.04.18