II. O happy lark, that warblest high O brook, that brawlest merrily by O graves in daisies drest, O Love and Life, how weary am I, THE PROGRESS OF SPRING. I. THE groundflame of the crocus breaks the mould, And hour by hour unfolding woodbine leaves She comes! The loosen'd rivulets run; The frost-bead melts upon her golden hair; Her mantle, slowly greening in the Sun, Now wraps her close, now arching leaves her bare To breaths of balmier air; II. Up leaps the lark, gone wild to welcome her, While round her brows a woodland culver flits, Patient-the secret splendour of the brooks. III. Once more a downy drift against the brakes, Yon blanching apricot like snow in snow. Solved in the tender blushes of the peach; They lose themselves and die On that new life that gems the hawthorn line; Thy gay lent-lilies wave and put them by, And out once more in varnish'd glory shine IV. She floats across the hamlet. Heaven lours, And these low bushes dip their twigs in foam, V. Across my garden! and the thicket stirs, Still round her forehead wheels the woodland dove, And scatters on her throat the sparks of dew, The kingcup fills her footprint, and above Broaden the glowing isles of vernal blue. Hail ample presence of a Queen, Bountiful, beautiful, apparell'd gay, Whose mantle, every shade of glancing green, She whispers, 66 VI. From the South I bring you balm, While some dark dweller by the coco-palm I sat beneath a solitude of snow; There no one came, the turf was fresh, the woods The steaming marshes of the scarlet cranes, VII. "Then from my vapour-girdle soaring forth To work old laws of Love to fresh results, I too would teach the man Beyond the darker hour to see the bright, That his fresh life may close as it began, The still-fulfilling promise of a light Narrowing the bounds of night.' VIII. So wed thee with my soul, that I may mark The coming year's great good and varied ills, And new developments, whatever spark Be struck from out the clash of warring wills; Or whether, since our nature cannot rest, The smoke of war's volcano burst again Or should those fail, that hold the helm, While the long day of knowledge grows and warms, And in the heart of this most ancient realm A hateful voice be utter'd, and alarms |