Spring Poem From 1844

By O.G. Spoons.

The robins are singing,

The grass is upspringing,

And May is bringing,

    'Mid sunshine and showers;

The belles are out airing,

Gay dresses they're wearing,

And the fields are preparing,

    To put forth their flowers;

The brooks are swift running,

The snakes are out sunning,

The boys are out gunning,

The fountains are spouting,

The anglers are trouting,

    Far off 'mid the hills.

Where the lambkins are prancing,

And the sunbeams are dancing

    On the bright sparkling rills;

The partridge is drumming

By the mountain side rude,

And the hornet is humming

His song in the wood;

The spider sits eyeing

The insect that's flying,

To catch him — the scamp!

The owlet is sleeping,

Whilst the bugs are a creeping,

And the frogs are a-peeping

    In yonder old swamp;

The streamlets are flooding,

The lilacs are budding,

And cloud-racks are scudding

Athwart the blue sky;

The cataract's roaring

While the waters are pouring,

And the hen hawk is soaring

    With the eagle on high;

The wild dove is wooing,

To his love he is cooing,

    (I hope he will win her,)

Bland breezes are blowing,

The cattle are lowing,

And I am now going

— — — — to dinner.

June 1, 1844. Miners' Journal and Pottsville General Advertiser 20(22): 4.