17 November 2014

Original Poetry. Spring.

How pleasant 'tis in early spring,
To hear the pretty robin sing;
To hear the cooing of the dove,
Which fills our hearts with warmest love.
To see the pretty grass so green,
Oh, what a soul refreshing scene!
The sight of birds and insect's gay,
The lovely warble of the jay.
The red bird with his mellow sound,
While tripping lightly o'er the ground,
Creating joy where'er he goes,
Just like the fragrance of the rose.
The lark which rises up so high,
His song the sweetest when most high;
The goose which takes its northward coarse,
With wing so strong and croak so hoarse.
The pigeon with unwearied wing,
Gives token of an early spring;
The cat-bid with its changing tone;
The bull-frog with his mighty moan.
The ant begins its summer toils,
The lazy serpent then recoils;
The daffo with its yellow hue,
Peeps forth to greet the earliest dew.
The Easter flowers next appears,
To note the passing of the years;
And all is joy, and all is love,
Reflected from our home above.


April 5, 1860. Belmont Chronicle 4(15): 1.