Classic Poem

Blest bearer of peace, she comes in her grandeur;
I hear the sweet echo, and hear it again,
Through the forests of trees and o'er the green fields,
In sounds of contentment, in music's sweet strain.

She rides in the skies, and she comes on the breeze
From her mansions so aerial, illumined, and fair;
They stand in a mystery unfathomed by thought,
And who can describe them, or who can tell where?

The sound of her footstep, the tone of her call
Is hailed with rejoicings--rejoicings of joy;
Her whisper so gentle, her breathings of peace
All feelings of sadness allure and decoy.

The birds of the air, the warbling songsters,
The thrush and the blackbird uniting send higher,
By adding their songs to chorus of chorus,
Redouble her welcome and sing a sweet lyre.

See, through the dark soil, in patient procession,
The flowers are beginning again to appear;
From beds of repose, from darkest of hidings,
In caution most careful they cunningly peer,

And seemingly ask, in anxious desire,
If 'tis the voice of Spring, if Winter's no more;
All longing the time when howling blasts go,
To crown her their queen from shore unto shore;

To spread a rich carpet, by nature entwined,
Pave all her pathways with richest of gems;
To stud it with beauty in grandest profusion,
With roses and daisies on stalks and on stems.

Then welcome right gladly, then welcome, sweet Spring!
Let all be united, let every one sing;
Blended in a lyric let every voice be,
Your fairest of praises and sweetest notes bring.