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generally on beholding them is delight. They rather 
tend to inspire hope than awaken memory, whispering 
in a still small voice, “ The winter is past, the rain is 
over and gone; the flowers appear on the earth; the 
time of the singing birds is come, and the voice of the 
turtle is heard in our land.” 
How knew ye when to waken ? did sweet Spring 
Bend o’er ye, as a nlother o’er her child, 
With kindling glance, till ye look’d up and smiled ? 
Or did some frolic zephyr, on light wing, 
Visit your couch, and woo ye thus to fling 
Your early garlands on the lap of earth ? 
Whate’er the gentle spell which lured ye forth, 
We reap the boon, and hail your blossoming. 
Oh 1 meekly bold, ye ever come to cheer 
Our hearts, and they are cheer’d; may storm nor blight, 
For this, ye nurslings of the opening year, 
Upon your silken petals e’er alight; 
For this, may sun and breeze, and dewdrop clear, 
Each minister in turn to your delight. 
