Brook-Song : To the Spring

O BEAUTY! vision of forgotten gladness!Fulfillment of a dream that ne'er betrays!O miracle of hope, and balm of sadness!Creative ecstasy and fount of praise!

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I lay upon the ground and gave no token,I hid my face mid sodden leaves and sere,My languid pulses chill, my spirit broken,—I knew not, O divine one! you were near;

For snows and frosts of winter, new-departed,Still held my will in thrall and weighed me down;And I forgot—forlorn and heavy-hearted—Your promise, goddess of the violet crown!

But soft as music in remembrance sighing,You fanned me with your wooing breath, and IWho shed no tears when lone I seemed and dyingWept at your touch, and knew I should not die.

Now by my banks are tender blossoms blowing:In fragrant loveliness they smile on me,—But I must hasten to the river, knowingThe river will lead onward to the sea.

High over me the budding branches quiverWith songs that swell in happy harmony;But sweeter is the murmur of the river,—The river that leads onward to the sea!