Columbia Democrat And Bloomsburg General Advertiser

Spring Time.--A lark echo greets the dawn air--a gush of sweet tones floats on the bosom of twilight--buds break forth in beauty from buoyant boughs--birds breathe out in soul-carols notes of joy-- while sun, scene and sky are the gay triumvirate of splendor who lead over earth the auspicious advent of the season of promise. The day's opening is heralded by golden footsteps; and the night saunters forth in its sandals of silver stars.-- Fragile flowers are breathing fragrance-- the grain is robed in its rich garniture of green--the loam turned up by the plowman awaits the sower with seed--and nature, robed in regal raiment crowns the inanimate in glowing glory. The ides of April, faithless and fickle as ever, are closed up, to welcome the birth of May, when

Smiles light her hour lips
And rose buds 'mid her dial days
Loop brightly up their brightest promise

Poets have penned, and painters have portrayed the charms which fling such radiance around the coming of spring,--but neither scroll inspired or canvas hollowed in all their wild and weird romance, can equal the reality which garners in splendor the reality of the present--when life leaps forth anew--when hope bathes field and fern with coming joys--and love plumes for higher flights its perennial pinions. May we all, like the season, ever enjoy the incense which shall bloom in beauty in the May-garden of happy hearts.