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I WEEP while gazing on thy modest face,
AN AMERICAN FOREST SPRING.
BY A. B.
Now fluttering breeze - now stormy blast,
Mild rain, then blustering snowWinter's stern fettering cold is passed,
But, sweet Spring! where art thou ? The white cloud floats ʼmid smiling blue, The broad bright sunshine's golden hue
Bathes the still frozen earth, 'Tis changed !-above, black vapours roll, We turn from our expected stroll,
And seek the blazing hearth.
Hark, that sweet carol! with delight
We leave the stilling room ;
Spring, glorious Spring has come!
Are leaping off in showers,
And birds, will soon be ours.
A few soft sunny days have shone,
The air has lost its chill,
Upon the southern hill.
- a pleasant sceneHere sprouts the fresh young wintergreen,
There swells a mossy mound, Though in the hollows drifts are piled, The wandering wind is sweet and mild,
And buds are bursting round.
Where its long rings uncurls the fern,
The violet, nestling low,
Its purple streaks to show :
The courier of the band
Upon its slender wand.
A sudden roar-a shade is cast
We look up with a start,
O’erhead the pigeons dart;
They wheel in distant flight. A chirp- and swift the squirrel scours Along the prostrate trunk, and cowers
Within its clefts, from sight.
Amid the creeping vine, which spreads
Its thick and verdant wreath,
Its rich delicious breath.
The robin's mottled breast
To frame its summer nest.
Warmer is each successive sky,
More soft the breezes pass, The maple's gems of crimson lie
Upon the thick green grass.
Cowslips are round the rill,
And swamps have voices shrill.
A simultaneous burst of leaves
Has clothed the forest now,
This vivid gorgeous show.
Night brings its soft sweet moon,
Melts blooming into June !