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SPRING AND WINTER.
daisies pied, and violets blue,
Cuckoo, cuckoo, — O word of fear,
When shepherds pipe on oaten straws,
When turtles tread, and rooks, and claws,
The cuckoo then, on every tree,
Mocks married men, for thus sings he,
Cuckoo, cuckoo, —O word of fear,
When icicles hang by the wall,
And Dick the shepherd blows his nail, And Tom bears logs into the hall,
And milk comes frozen home in pail.
When all around the wind doth blow,
And coughiug drowns the parson's saw, And birds sit brooding in the snow,
And Marian's nose looks red and raw,
|HE stormy March is come at last,
With wind, and cloud, and changing skies; I hear the rushing of the blast, That through the snowy valley flies.
Ah, passing few are they who speak,
Yet though thy winds are loud and bleak,
For thou, to Northern lands, again
And thou hast joined the gentle train
And in thy reign of blast and storm,
When the changed winds arc soft and warm,
Then sing aloud the gushing rills
In joy that they again arc free, And, brightly leaping down the hills,
Ilenew their journey to the sea.
Stately Spring! whose robe-folds are valleys, whose breast-bouquet is gardens, anil whose blush is a vernal evening.
Thou art round me now in all thy hues, I see thy forms o'er the parting earth,
In thy bursting buds, in thy blessing dews, In the thousand plants that spring to birth,
I feel thy promise in all my veins, There are life and joy in thy coming, Spring!
They bound with a feeling long suppressed, Thou hast no tidings of gloom and death:
And, like a captive who breaks his chains, But buds thou shakest from every wing,
Leap the glad hopes in my heaving breast. And sweets thou breathest with every breath.
William Gilmore Simms.
COME from haunts of coot and hern: By thirty hills I hurry down,
And sparkle out among the fern, By twenty thorps, a little town.