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As quickly as the ice vanishes when the Father unlooses the frost fetters and unwounds the icy ropes of the torrent.

For, lo, the winter is past, the rain is over and gone; The flowers appear on the earth; the time of the singing of birds is come, and the voice of the turtle is heard in our land; The fig tree putteth forth her green figs, and the vines with the tender grape, give a good smell. Arise, my love, my fair one, and come away.

Now spring returns; but not to me returns The vernal joy my better years have known; Dim in my breast life's dying taper burns, And all the joys of life with health have flown.

Now Nature hangs her mantle green On every blooming tree, And spreads her sheets o' daisies white Out o'er the grassy lea.

Gentle Spring!--in sunshine clad, Well dost thou thy power display! For Winter maketh the light heart said, And thou,--makest the sad heart gay.

And the spring comes slowly up this way.

Spring hangs her infant blossoms on the trees, Rock'd in the cradle of the western breeze.

If there comes a little thaw, Still the air is chill and raw, Here and there a patch of snow, Dirtier than the ground below, Dribbles down a marshy flood; Ankle-deep you stick in mud In the meadows while you sing, "This is Spring."

in Just-- spring when the world is mud-- luscious the little lame balloonman whistles far and wee

Starred forget-me-nots smile sweetly, Ring, bluebells, ring! Winning eye and heart completely, Sing, robin, sing! All among the reeds and rushes, Where the brook its music hushes, Bright the caloposon blushes,__ Laugh, O murmuring Spring!

A little Madness in the Spring Is wholesome even for the King.

April is the cruelest month, breeding Lilacs out of the dead land, mixing Memory and desire, stirring Dull roots with spring rain.

Daughter of heaven and earth, coy Spring, With sudden passion languishing, Teaching barren moors to smile, Painting pictures mile on mile, Holds a cup of cowslip wreaths Whence a smokeless incense breathes.

The sun was warm but the wind was chill. You know how it is with an April day When the sun is out and the wind is still, You're one month on in the middle of May. But if you so much as dare to speak, A cloud comes over the sunlit arch, A wind comes off a frozen peak, And you're two months back in the middle of March.

Eternal Spring, with smiling Verdue here Warms the mild Air, and crowns the youthful year. . . . . The Rose still blushes, and the vi'lets blow.

Lo! where the rosy bosom'd Hours Fair Venus' train appear, Disclose the long-expecting flowers, And wake the purple year.

When Spring unlocks the flowers to paint the laughing soil.

The spring's already at the gate With looks my care beguiling; The country round appeareth straight A flower-garden smiling.

The beauteous eyes of the spring's fair night With comfort are downward gazing.

I come, I come! ye have called me long, I come o'er the mountain with light and song: Ye may trace my step o'er the wakening earth, By the winds which tell of the violet's birth, By the primrose-stars in the shadowy grass, By the green leaves, opening as I pass.