w In the heart of the garden the merry bird chants*** 



TENNYSON. 



FEBRUARY 



'TpHE birds are the first to announce the coming of Spring. 

 Long hushed by frost and the grey dreariness of Winter, 

 and in wonderment at the earth, silent and bare in its Winter- 

 trance, and now on the point of its reawakening, they tell out 

 their joy in song : and how very sweet are the early melodies 

 of the birds ! It is when one beholds the sun-bright land and 

 the clear distances, when the crocus opens its slender vases of 

 opal or golden bloom in the yet desolate garden, the nearness 

 of Spring is no longer a fancy but a reality : 



First pleasures now begun ; warm kisses fall 



Upon the golden crocus from the sun, 

 And in the wood the earliest Spring-birds call. 

 First pleasures now begun. 



Of Springtime almost here, of Winter done, 



Speak earliest violets Yieath the southern wall, 

 And of the world to smiles again re- won. 



O brave, wild birds to dare ; the winds blow all 

 From wintry ways so dark, so sere and dun ! 

 O bright brave flowers freed from Winter's thrall ! 

 First pleasures now begun. 



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