SONG OF THE CHILDREN ABOUT SPRING. 
129 
No flowers to weep them in dew-glistening eyes, 
Or climb in sweet odors up with them to the skies ! — ■ 
They go with the chill of his breath on their wings, 
Till they come to where Heaven's own fire-fountain springs. 
VI I. 
But joy I 0 joy ! a love-breath shall rout him ! 
Sing merrily 0 ! — 
The tyrant must go — 
Bundle that ghastly mantle about him, 
That mantle of snow 
That beginneth to show 
His shrunk limbs like grave clothes rent on a corse ; 
And far, fast and high 
Old shrunk-shanks must fly ; 
Or what o'ertakes him than death shall be worse, 
For zephyrs go by 
Who tell spring is nigh — • 
And rather than kiss her he'd many times die 1 
VIII. 
Ah ! hah, she is coming 
The merry-eyed maiden ! — 
We hear them far humming 
Her train flower-laden. 
For tripping sprites are they — 
In beamy joyous throngs 
Swiftly their light feet play, 
Cadent to mellow songs. 
Now old Gray-Beard must flee 
Quite as fast as may be. 
Could they only but catch. 
How they'd tease the cross wretch — 
9 
