Poems (Ford)/Spring

For works with similar titles, see Spring.
SPRING.
Again the fairy foot of SpringComes tripping o'er the lea;Young blossoms ope their dewy eyes,Her smiling face to see;The streamlets gush in rippling play,The woods with music ring,And smiling Nature seems to say:"Oh, welcome, joyous Spring!"
The broad folds of her emerald robeO'er hill and vale are spread,And at her touch the violet liftsFrom earth its drooping head;The soft peach-blossom tints her cheek,Her brow the myrtle wreathes,And where steps the hyacinthIts fragrant odor breathes.
When Morning from her eastern couchComes forth on rosy wings,The blue-bird 'mong the locust boughsHer joyous matin sings; The robin flits from branch to branch,And carols loud and clear,And all things round us seem to say:"Bright Spring, glad Spring, is here!"
As bursts of liquid melodyGush forth from bower and grove,In gratitude to Nature's GodFor all His care and love,We, too, should with the joyous birdsOur grateful voices raise,And make the duties of each dayAn anthem in His praise.
Yes, Spring is here—with joy we hailHer sunny face once more—Fair herald of the Summer's bloom,And of the Autumn's store;And as the buds in beauty burst,Touched by her magic wand,The heart seems, too, with joyous hopeAnd gladness to expand.
The sleeping earth in beauty wakesWhere'er her footsteps fall;And Nature's myriad voices blendIn music, at her call;And as the opening buds exhaleTheir fragrance from the sod, The heart its grateful incense sendsUp to the throne of God.
Dear God, who made this world so fair,What mortal e'er can tellThe glories of that cloudless landWhere saints and angels dwell?Oh, may the fleeting lovelinessThat here on earth we see,Forever bid our 'wandering thoughtsAscend to heaven and Thee.
Oh, glorious Spring, thy breezes waftThe light wings of the soulFrom earth to where o'er golden sandsLife-giving waters roll,Where seraph-choirs their happy songsIn bowers of beauty sing,And fadeless flowers wreathe the browOf a perpetual Spring.