New Hampshire Statesman And State Journal

POETRY.

THE RETURN OF SPRING.

BY J. MALCOMB, ESQ.

Dear as the dove, whose wasting wing
The green leaf ransom'd from the storm,
Thy genial glow, returning Spring,
Comes to our shores again;
For thou hast been a wanderer long,
On many a fair and foreign strand,
In balm and beauty, sun and song,
Passing from land to land.
O'er vine clad hills, and classic plains;
Or glowing climes beyond the deep;
And by the dim and wandering fane:
Where the dead Casar reigns;
And o'er Sierra's brightly blue,
Where rests our country's fallen brave,
Smiling through thy sweet tears, to strow
Flower offerings o'er each grave.
Thou bring'st the blossom to the bee,
To earth a robe of emerald dye;
The leaflet to the naked tree,
And rainbow in the sky;
I feel thy blest, benign control
The pulses of my youth restore;
Opening the spring of sense and soul,
To love and joy once more.
I will not people thy green bowers,
With sorrow's pale and spectre hand:
Or blend with thine the faded flowers
Of memory's distant land:
For thou wert surely never given
To wake regret from pleasures gone;
But like an angel sent from heaven,
To soothe creation's groan.
Then, while the groves thy garlands twine,
Thy spirit breathes in flower and tree,
My heart shall kindle at thy shrine,
And worship God in thee:
And in some calm sequestered spot,
While list'ning to thy choral strain,
Past griefs shall be awhile forgot,
And pleasures bloom again.