The First Bird of Spring
By S.C.G., Cambridgeport. For the Chronicle.
- I hear thy voice of joyous glee
- Like some glad spirit, bright and free,
- Waking fair morn
- At early dawn,
- With songs of praise,
- Like angel's lays,
- As sweet and full of melody.
-
- Gay, joyous bird with a fluttering wing,
- With thee we hail the dawning spring.
- Bright trees and flowers
- 'Mid April showers,
- Will soon appear
- In verdure here,
- And nature, join our melody.
-
- Oh, say! thou earliest bird of spring,
- Dost thou to man thy tribute bring,
- Tat thus, he may,
- Though formed of clay,
- Aspire to raise
- His songs of praise,
- To Him who gave thee melody!
-
- Can memory touch no sadder strain
- Than that which wakes thy woods again!
- Dost thou not mourn
- The early gone,
- Sweet songsters fled,
- Or Flowerets dead,
- The plaintive tones of melody?
-
- Then give thy notes a mournful strain,
- And we will join, thy requiem,
- For loved ones fled,
- Who sleep with dead,
- Till spirit's spring
- Again may bring,
- Their songs of holy melody.
March 14, 1850. Cambridge Chronicle 5(11): 2.