



§2 POUTRY OF FLOWERS. 
Glance quick in the bright sun, that moves along 
The forest openings. 
When the bright sunset fills 
The silver wood with light, the green slopv throws 
Its shadows in the hollow of the hills, 
And wide the upland glows. 
And, when the eve is born, 
In the blue lake the sky, o’er-reaching far, 
Is hollowed out, and the moon dips her horn, 
And twinkles many a star. 
Inverted in the tide, 
Stand the gray rocks, and trembling shadows 
throw, 
And the fair trees look over, side by side, 
And see themselves below. 
Sweet April! many a thought 
Is wedded unto thee, as hearts are wed : 
Nor shall they fail, till, to its autumn brought, 
Life’s golden fruit is shed, 
s 
