Spring
1
How beautiful is Spring! the sun gleams gold,
Reflecting like a mirror, burnished ever;
The skylark from the eddings near the fold,
Mounts up and sings! — bright gleams the flowing river
Full to the brim! — Winter is gone! and never
Attempts his scattered force to bring
Against such burnished scenes; — the true believer
Sees flowers in bloom and hears the woodlands ring,
With joys awake: — how beautiful is Spring! —
2
Poesy of seasons! scripture of the year!
Whose buds put forth in promise to the sun,
And at their resurrection shall appear
Hued in all colours, as from rainbows won, —
Gold, blue, green, red, and white! the meadows run,
A garden world of bloom, and richly fling
Incense to every wind, and shower, and sun;
Music unceasing, woods and valleys bring
From birds about their nests! how beautiful is Spring!
3
The daisy's golden eye and silver rim
Crowd every pasture like a fall of snow
And pilewort, where earth's diadems grow dim,
Stud emerald grass with gold where'er they grow
Spring flowers flood earth in showers to overflow; —
Meadow and close and pingle, where suns cling,
And shine on earliest flowers, — there they shew
Their rainbow maps of loveliness; and bring
Their painted crowds, — so beautiful is Spring!
4
Anemonies and lilies of the valley
Cover whole acres of the forest glade;
And blue-bells, that in woods and spinneys dally,
Beneath the oak tree and the hazel's shade.
The bushiest place is like a carpet made;
No copse so thick, but there their blooms they bring, —
No spot so cold but meets their purple shade;
In every place where feathered warblers sing,
Wild flowers in armies come! — so beautiful is Spring.
5
The garish Summer comes with many tribes
Of gay and gaudy flowers, in bright array;
But the hot sun the cloudy morning bribes,
And dries all moisture with his scorching ray; —
Corn-poppies oft a scarlet host display, —
The oak woods green, like rocky masses hing
On wooded hills, — the willows waving grey,
Hang mournful in the stream; — birds cease to sing: —
The sweetest poesy of the year is Spring! —
How beautiful is Spring! the sun gleams gold,
Reflecting like a mirror, burnished ever;
The skylark from the eddings near the fold,
Mounts up and sings! — bright gleams the flowing river
Full to the brim! — Winter is gone! and never
Attempts his scattered force to bring
Against such burnished scenes; — the true believer
Sees flowers in bloom and hears the woodlands ring,
With joys awake: — how beautiful is Spring! —
2
Poesy of seasons! scripture of the year!
Whose buds put forth in promise to the sun,
And at their resurrection shall appear
Hued in all colours, as from rainbows won, —
Gold, blue, green, red, and white! the meadows run,
A garden world of bloom, and richly fling
Incense to every wind, and shower, and sun;
Music unceasing, woods and valleys bring
From birds about their nests! how beautiful is Spring!
3
The daisy's golden eye and silver rim
Crowd every pasture like a fall of snow
And pilewort, where earth's diadems grow dim,
Stud emerald grass with gold where'er they grow
Spring flowers flood earth in showers to overflow; —
Meadow and close and pingle, where suns cling,
And shine on earliest flowers, — there they shew
Their rainbow maps of loveliness; and bring
Their painted crowds, — so beautiful is Spring!
4
Anemonies and lilies of the valley
Cover whole acres of the forest glade;
And blue-bells, that in woods and spinneys dally,
Beneath the oak tree and the hazel's shade.
The bushiest place is like a carpet made;
No copse so thick, but there their blooms they bring, —
No spot so cold but meets their purple shade;
In every place where feathered warblers sing,
Wild flowers in armies come! — so beautiful is Spring.
5
The garish Summer comes with many tribes
Of gay and gaudy flowers, in bright array;
But the hot sun the cloudy morning bribes,
And dries all moisture with his scorching ray; —
Corn-poppies oft a scarlet host display, —
The oak woods green, like rocky masses hing
On wooded hills, — the willows waving grey,
Hang mournful in the stream; — birds cease to sing: —
The sweetest poesy of the year is Spring! —
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