by Margaret Davidson.
Originally published in The Leisure Hour (Religious Tract Society) vol.1 #10 (04 Mar 1852).
Bend down from thy chariot, oh beautiful Spring,
Unfold like a standard thy radiant wing,
And beauty and joy in thy rosy path bring!
We long for thy coming, sweet emblem of love,
We watch for thy smile in the pure sky above,
And we sigh for the hour when the woodbirds shall sing,
And nature shall welcome thee, beautiful Spring!
How the lone heart will bound as thy presence draws near,
As if borne from this world to some lovelier sphere!
How the fond soul to meet thee in raptures shall rise,
When thy first blush has tinted the earth and the skies.
Oh, send thy soft breath on the icy-bound stream,
'Twill vanish, 'twill melt, like the forms in a dream;
Released from its chains, like a child in its glee,
'Twill flow on in its beauty, all sparkling and free.
It will spring on in joy, like a bird on the wing,
And hail thee with music, oh beautiful Spring!
But tread with thy foot on the snow-cover'd plain,
And verdure and beauty shall smile in thy train.
Only whisper one word with thy seraph-like voice,
And nature to hear the sweet sound shall rejoice!
Oh, Spring, lovely season! what form can compare
With thine so resplendent, so glowing, so fair?
What sunbeam so bright as thy own smiling eye,
At whose glance the dark spirits of winter do fly?
A garland of roses is twined round thy brow,
Thy cheek like the pale blush of evening doth glow;
A mantle of green o'er thy soft form is spread,
And the zephyr's light wing gently plays round thy head.
Oh, could I but mount on the eagle's dark wing,
And rest ever beside thee, Spring, beautiful Spring!
Methinks I behold thee! I hear thy soft voice!
And in fulness of heart I rejoice! I rejoice!
But the cold wind is moaning, the drear snow doth fall,
And nought but the shrieking blast echoes my call.