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Popular Poetry.



COME, Spring, O come;
And loiter not so long

In distant Southern isles,
Or in the glens of Araby the Blest.

Come, Spring, O come;

For I am sick at heart

Of the dull winter's length,

And yearn to see thy cheerful face again.

On the fresh blade

Glistens the rime of morn,

Waiting for thee to come,

And with thy breath exhale it to the skies.

For thee the bud

Its fragile form unfolds;

And opening film by film,

Spreads to the tempting air its leaf of gauze.

The lamb for thee,

Thrilling with young delight,

Skips through the fleecy fold

On the warm slope of mauy a sunny vale;


Sing adraners!

y, green trees; It leaf danceB vering breeze! it glances! vern flees,

through every vela vmal rain.

le mountain stealing, vales along;

r's tongue is sealing; ve is heard his song; ly hues reveals and forest throng; in radiant showers, y among the flowers. From the German of Tweck.


sunshine clad,

chy power display! eth the light heart sad,

bou makest the sad heart gay.

, and calls to his gloomy train,

and the snow, and the wind, and the rain; shrink away, and they flee in fear,

thy merry step draws near.

giveth the fields, and the trees so old,

ir beards of icicles and snow;

The rain, it raineth so fast and cold,

e must cower over the embers low,

dd, snugly housed from the wind and weather, pe like birds that are changing feather. >ut the storm retires, and the sky grows clear, When thy merry step draws near.


While near at hand,

From hedgerows faintly green,
To frequent bleatings shrill

The newly-mating birds in songs reply.

Then from afar

Once more appear, O Spring,
Breathing thy odorous sweets,
With robe of violet and lily crown.

Once more appear,

Enchantress of the world!

Who with sweet syren voice

Lullest the harsh notes of the wintry gale.

So at thy call

All nature shall revive,

And grateful, o'er thy head,

Strew the white blossoms of the early year.



Now that the Winter's gone, the earth hath lost
Her snow-white robes, and now no more the frost
Candies the grass, or calls an icy cream
Upon the silver lake, or crystal stream;
But the warm sun thaws the benumbéd earth,
And makes it tender; gives a second birth
To the dead swallow; wakes in hollow tree
The drowsy cuckoo and the humble-bee.
Now do a choir of chirping minstrels bring
In triumph to the world the youthful Spring.
The valleys, hills, and woods, in rich array,
Welcome the coming of the long'd-for May.
Now all things smile.


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