SPRING.Canaught be more magnificent than Spring?Mountain and mead, and foliage and flower,Assume a bridal look, as if the SunHad solemnized his nuptials with the Earth.A green and growing grandeur consecratesThe general land, like an anointed Queen;The soil begins to quicken with the birth,And bounteously proseminates its gifts;A glory reigns supreme o'er all, a BalmThat moves, like Inspiration, in the soul,And gives a motive to each quiet thought,Stirring, in transport, like a little bird.Creation seems a path to brighter worlds—A track to better homes. A permeant goodPervades the Universe, and all is joy.The river runs, like one of nimble foot,And smiling aspect, to embrace the sea,Henceforth incorporate; even as the youth,Of fervent spirit and of sanguine hope,Comes from his home obscure, and wanders forthTo mingle with the world, and there is lost.The ruminating Ocean is at peace,And its faint murmur—for its voice is ne'erAll silent—like a half forgotten toneSeems but the echo of a broken chime,As if a part of memory, pilgrim-like,Had gone in quest of all, and died awayAmid the distant traces of the past.The gentle breeze comes from its groves of spice,And fragrance bears throughout the Virgin air;And hark! the woodland music—warblings softSteal on the gladdened ear—from every hedge,From every forest dim, a voice proceedsOf deep-felt rapture, praise and gratitude.The swan disports upon the quiet lake,And shares the cheerfulness that all enjoy;While thoughts, without a voice, of Heaven remoteIn the still waters mirrored, stir its breast.—All circumstance of language is too faintThe beautiful of Nature to pourtray;The eloquent sense, the feeling sensitive,Alone holds free communion with her charms:While thought awakes, like day-dawn, and goes forthTo gather stores of knowledge;—like a draughtOf the pure fountain to the unrefreshed,The bloom of Spring exhilarates the mind,And gives a tone to virtue—its approachIs as the coming of sweet health to oneLong time afflicted, for its bloom is blest.
Canaught be more magnificent than Spring?Mountain and mead, and foliage and flower,Assume a bridal look, as if the SunHad solemnized his nuptials with the Earth.A green and growing grandeur consecratesThe general land, like an anointed Queen;The soil begins to quicken with the birth,And bounteously proseminates its gifts;A glory reigns supreme o'er all, a BalmThat moves, like Inspiration, in the soul,And gives a motive to each quiet thought,Stirring, in transport, like a little bird.Creation seems a path to brighter worlds—A track to better homes. A permeant goodPervades the Universe, and all is joy.The river runs, like one of nimble foot,And smiling aspect, to embrace the sea,Henceforth incorporate; even as the youth,Of fervent spirit and of sanguine hope,Comes from his home obscure, and wanders forthTo mingle with the world, and there is lost.The ruminating Ocean is at peace,And its faint murmur—for its voice is ne'erAll silent—like a half forgotten toneSeems but the echo of a broken chime,As if a part of memory, pilgrim-like,Had gone in quest of all, and died awayAmid the distant traces of the past.The gentle breeze comes from its groves of spice,And fragrance bears throughout the Virgin air;And hark! the woodland music—warblings softSteal on the gladdened ear—from every hedge,From every forest dim, a voice proceedsOf deep-felt rapture, praise and gratitude.The swan disports upon the quiet lake,And shares the cheerfulness that all enjoy;While thoughts, without a voice, of Heaven remoteIn the still waters mirrored, stir its breast.—All circumstance of language is too faintThe beautiful of Nature to pourtray;The eloquent sense, the feeling sensitive,Alone holds free communion with her charms:While thought awakes, like day-dawn, and goes forthTo gather stores of knowledge;—like a draughtOf the pure fountain to the unrefreshed,The bloom of Spring exhilarates the mind,And gives a tone to virtue—its approachIs as the coming of sweet health to oneLong time afflicted, for its bloom is blest.
Canaught be more magnificent than Spring?Mountain and mead, and foliage and flower,Assume a bridal look, as if the SunHad solemnized his nuptials with the Earth.A green and growing grandeur consecratesThe general land, like an anointed Queen;The soil begins to quicken with the birth,And bounteously proseminates its gifts;A glory reigns supreme o'er all, a BalmThat moves, like Inspiration, in the soul,And gives a motive to each quiet thought,Stirring, in transport, like a little bird.Creation seems a path to brighter worlds—A track to better homes. A permeant goodPervades the Universe, and all is joy.The river runs, like one of nimble foot,And smiling aspect, to embrace the sea,Henceforth incorporate; even as the youth,Of fervent spirit and of sanguine hope,Comes from his home obscure, and wanders forthTo mingle with the world, and there is lost.The ruminating Ocean is at peace,And its faint murmur—for its voice is ne'erAll silent—like a half forgotten toneSeems but the echo of a broken chime,As if a part of memory, pilgrim-like,Had gone in quest of all, and died awayAmid the distant traces of the past.The gentle breeze comes from its groves of spice,And fragrance bears throughout the Virgin air;And hark! the woodland music—warblings softSteal on the gladdened ear—from every hedge,From every forest dim, a voice proceedsOf deep-felt rapture, praise and gratitude.The swan disports upon the quiet lake,And shares the cheerfulness that all enjoy;While thoughts, without a voice, of Heaven remoteIn the still waters mirrored, stir its breast.—All circumstance of language is too faintThe beautiful of Nature to pourtray;The eloquent sense, the feeling sensitive,Alone holds free communion with her charms:While thought awakes, like day-dawn, and goes forthTo gather stores of knowledge;—like a draughtOf the pure fountain to the unrefreshed,The bloom of Spring exhilarates the mind,And gives a tone to virtue—its approachIs as the coming of sweet health to oneLong time afflicted, for its bloom is blest.
Canaught be more magnificent than Spring?Mountain and mead, and foliage and flower,Assume a bridal look, as if the SunHad solemnized his nuptials with the Earth.A green and growing grandeur consecratesThe general land, like an anointed Queen;The soil begins to quicken with the birth,And bounteously proseminates its gifts;A glory reigns supreme o'er all, a BalmThat moves, like Inspiration, in the soul,And gives a motive to each quiet thought,Stirring, in transport, like a little bird.Creation seems a path to brighter worlds—A track to better homes. A permeant goodPervades the Universe, and all is joy.The river runs, like one of nimble foot,And smiling aspect, to embrace the sea,Henceforth incorporate; even as the youth,Of fervent spirit and of sanguine hope,Comes from his home obscure, and wanders forthTo mingle with the world, and there is lost.The ruminating Ocean is at peace,And its faint murmur—for its voice is ne'erAll silent—like a half forgotten toneSeems but the echo of a broken chime,As if a part of memory, pilgrim-like,Had gone in quest of all, and died awayAmid the distant traces of the past.The gentle breeze comes from its groves of spice,And fragrance bears throughout the Virgin air;And hark! the woodland music—warblings softSteal on the gladdened ear—from every hedge,From every forest dim, a voice proceedsOf deep-felt rapture, praise and gratitude.The swan disports upon the quiet lake,And shares the cheerfulness that all enjoy;While thoughts, without a voice, of Heaven remoteIn the still waters mirrored, stir its breast.—All circumstance of language is too faintThe beautiful of Nature to pourtray;The eloquent sense, the feeling sensitive,Alone holds free communion with her charms:While thought awakes, like day-dawn, and goes forthTo gather stores of knowledge;—like a draughtOf the pure fountain to the unrefreshed,The bloom of Spring exhilarates the mind,And gives a tone to virtue—its approachIs as the coming of sweet health to oneLong time afflicted, for its bloom is blest.
Canaught be more magnificent than Spring?
Mountain and mead, and foliage and flower,
Assume a bridal look, as if the Sun
Had solemnized his nuptials with the Earth.
A green and growing grandeur consecrates
The general land, like an anointed Queen;
The soil begins to quicken with the birth,
And bounteously proseminates its gifts;
A glory reigns supreme o'er all, a Balm
That moves, like Inspiration, in the soul,
And gives a motive to each quiet thought,
Stirring, in transport, like a little bird.
Creation seems a path to brighter worlds—
A track to better homes. A permeant good
Pervades the Universe, and all is joy.
The river runs, like one of nimble foot,
And smiling aspect, to embrace the sea,
Henceforth incorporate; even as the youth,
Of fervent spirit and of sanguine hope,
Comes from his home obscure, and wanders forth
To mingle with the world, and there is lost.
The ruminating Ocean is at peace,
And its faint murmur—for its voice is ne'er
All silent—like a half forgotten tone
Seems but the echo of a broken chime,
As if a part of memory, pilgrim-like,
Had gone in quest of all, and died away
Amid the distant traces of the past.
The gentle breeze comes from its groves of spice,
And fragrance bears throughout the Virgin air;
And hark! the woodland music—warblings soft
Steal on the gladdened ear—from every hedge,
From every forest dim, a voice proceeds
Of deep-felt rapture, praise and gratitude.
The swan disports upon the quiet lake,
And shares the cheerfulness that all enjoy;
While thoughts, without a voice, of Heaven remote
In the still waters mirrored, stir its breast.—
All circumstance of language is too faint
The beautiful of Nature to pourtray;
The eloquent sense, the feeling sensitive,
Alone holds free communion with her charms:
While thought awakes, like day-dawn, and goes forth
To gather stores of knowledge;—like a draught
Of the pure fountain to the unrefreshed,
The bloom of Spring exhilarates the mind,
And gives a tone to virtue—its approach
Is as the coming of sweet health to one
Long time afflicted, for its bloom is blest.