Alexandria Gazette

For the Alexandria Gazette.
SPRING IN 1847.
Slowly and timidly cometh she on,
With a cheerless smile, and an aspect wan,
Shrinking with fear from the crisping sound
Of her startled steps, on the frosty ground;
Cow'ring beneath the faded vest
Which mantled her form in its wint'ry rest;
And meekly bending before the gale,
That rusheth abroad with an angry wail.
But onward she cometh, with visage mild,
For nature hath summon'd her peerless child.
And come she must at a mother's call,
Tho' winter still holdeth the earth in thrall.
Swelleth no germ with its nascent leaf,
Bursteth no bud from its wintry sheaf;
Barren and sear is the thorny stem,
Which holdeth enshrined the Rose's gem;
Waiting the touch of the south breeze light,
(Or a kiss from the sun, in its noonday height,
To rise like a Queen with her vesture on,
And reign a vernal Paragon.
But oh, sweet Spring, uprear thy visage meek
And let the south wind bathe thy pallid cheek.
Go where the fresh grass by the brook side springeth,
And where the music of the wild bird ringeth
Follow where Nature hoards her precious things,
And drink ethereal vigor from her springs.
Then turn and pour thy brightness on the earth
Which pineth till thou call her flow'rets forth.