There are who to a birthday strain But evermore throughout thy reign Delicious odours! music sweet, That, when a thousand years are told, Earth, sea, thy presence feel-nor less, With its soft smile the truth express, Partakes a livelier cheer; And eyes that cannot but be sad Since thy return, through days and weeks Have kindled into health! The old, by thee revived, have said, And wayworn wanderers, poorly fed, Who tripping lisps a merry song The tender infant who was long A prisoner of fond fears; But now, when every sharp-edged blast Is quiet in its sheath, His mother leaves him free to taste Earth's sweetness in thy breath. Thy help is with the weed that creeps No cliff so bare but on its steeps That our own hands have drest, And yet how pleased we wander forth Heaven's bounteous love through me is spread Such greeting heard, away with sighs Vernal fruitions and desires Are linked in endless chase; While, as one kindly growth retires, Another takes its place. And what if thou, sweet May, hast known Mishap by worm and blight; If expectations newly blown Have perished in thy sight; If love and joys, while up they sprung, Were caught as in a snare; Such is the lot of all the young, Lo! Streams that April could not check Gurgling in foamy water-break, |