A SPRING RELISH 123 



To every wild-born thing that thrills and blows. 

 Sitting beside this crumbling sea-coal fire, 

 Here in the city's ceaseless roar and din, 

 Far from the brambly paths I used to know, 

 Far from the rustling brooks that slip and shine 

 Where the Neponset alders take their glow, 

 I share the tremulous sense of bud and brier, 

 And inarticulate ardors of the vine. 



A SPRING RELISH* 



BY JOHN BURROUGHS 



From Signs and Seasons 



THERE is a brief period in our spring when I like 

 more than at any other time to drive along the coun- 

 try roads, or even to be shot along by steam and have 

 the landscape presented to me like a map. It is at 

 that period, usually late in April, when we behold the 

 first quickening of the earth. The waters have sub- 

 sided, the roads have become dry, the sunshine has 

 grown strong and its warmth has penetrated the 

 sod; there is a stir of preparation about the farm and 

 all through the country. One does not care to see 

 things very closely; his interest in nature is not spec- 

 ial, but general. The earth is coming to life again. 

 All the genial and more fertile places in the land- 

 scape are brought out; the earth is quickened in 



* By permission of the publishers, Houghton, Mifflin & Co. 



