Poems (Gifford)/Spring
For works with similar titles, see Spring.
SPRING.
It cometh, cometh, all gently stealing, But visibly, audibly, far and wide;By many a token, by many a feeling, We know it is coming, the glad springtide.
Oh, winter often appeared unending, There ever was life, but it seemed as death;Now hope is exuberant, joy impending, All things are inspired by some quickening breath.
A balmy softness pervades creation, And every breeze seems a loving kiss,All nature joins in a grand ovation, Was ever a coming of spring like this?
Did sun ever glisten forth so brightly? Was ever the sky of so fair a blue?Were ever the heavens so star-begemmed nightly? Flashed Sirius ever with such brilliant hue?
On distant tree-tops compactly serried A shimmer of fresh, vivid life is seen;And wide-spreading meads, long in snow-wreaths buried, Now shine in the sunlight with verdant sheen.
A promise of harvest is surely growing, Transforming to beauty the dull, bare fields;The buds of the hedge-row with red are glowing, The chestnut is bursting its shining shields.
The beech-tree bristles with green-tipped lances, All gleamingly pointing to joys to be;And each slender twig of the lady-birch dances, Asserting its share in the general glee.
The towering hop-elm, in blossom early, With clusters of true lovers-knots is decked,In orchard and woodland the catkin curly, With tender grace hangs o'er its bride elect.
The speedwell, blue as the bluest heaven, Looks smilingly upward to that fair dome;The young lambs are playing from sunrise till even, The time of the singing of birds is come.
The brave thrush greets us at early morning, And cheerily carols the whole day long;And hope in oft-troubled lives newly dawning, Responsively echoes that clear, sweet song.
The lark her musical way is winging Aloft in the heights of transparent air;And jubilant hearts are as blithely singing As high in an atmosphere pure and rare.
Oh lovely spring! Oh enchanting season! Thou bringest us pleasures so great, so free;We love thee with every sense and reason, And warm is the welcome we give to thee.
Yet not unchequered shall be thy story, The dreaded north-easter shall still delayThe rapid advance of thy reign of glory, But ah! its coming no power can stay.
It shall not fail us while earth remaineth, A Father's good promise hath made it sure;Omnipotent blessing all life maintaineth, And we to the end may in hope endure.
For just as surely a glad fulfilling Of many a promise each day shall bring;And even through death are our hearts still thrilling With quickening hope of a deathless spring.