February. 23 
Hues you bring, bright, gay, and tender, 
As if never to decay, 
Fleeting in their varied splendour— 
Soon, alas ! it fades away. 
Thus the hopes I long had cherished, 
Thus the friends I long had known, 
One by one, like you have perished, 
Blighted—I must fade alone. 
Pattersofi. 
SPRING-TIME. 
Thou wak’st again, O Earth, 
From Winter’s sleep ! 
Bursting with voice of mirth 
From icy keep ; 
And, laughing at the Sun, 
Who hath their freedom won, 
Thy waters leap! 
Thou wak’st again, O Earth ! 
Freshly again, 
And who by fireside hearth 
Now will remain ? 
