218 

 O ! TIS SPRING. 



O ! tis Spring laughing Spring she is welcomed along 

 By the clear thrilling measure of passionate sons, 

 As it gushes, exulting, from valley and glen, 

 To hail her glad coming again and again. 



She has left the sweet South, where its rich climate glows, 

 Neath the summer sun's kiss, in voluptuous repose; 

 She has left the bright land of the olive, to smile 

 \\ ith her life-giving glance on our ocean-queen isle. 



She is coming the locks of the tall forest trees, 

 Fling essences forth to each amorous breeze, 

 And the languishing Morning weeps odorous dew 

 Till the green earth is mantled with blossoms anew. 



She is coming the rivers have heard and rejoice 

 From their fountains, far off, with a silver-toned voice, 

 And the winds bring a message of fragrance, and tell 

 The tidings in whispers to mountain and dell. 



She is coming the deep sea is hushed into rest 

 With each fair little island asleep on her breast, 

 Like a Mother who would not disturb by a sound 

 The stillness of slumber that lingers around. 



The swift bark comes forth in its white winged pride 

 And the smile of the beautiful beams on the tide, 

 And the loved and the lovely delight in the ray 

 That rests, like a flood, on the glittering bay. 



O ! tis Spring joyous Spring and fair Nature that lay 

 Neath a dreary dominion, a desolate sway, 

 Feels the heart-stirring glow of a happier one, 

 And expands into beauty, the child of the sun. 



FRANZ. 



6. 



