Poems (Griffin)/The Spring Queen of the Vale

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THE SPRING QUEEN OF THE VALE. BY ADDIE GLENMORE.
THERE is mist upon the mountain, There are shadows on the hill,And the frost-imprisoned fountain Sighs in murmurs low and chill.
The maple boughs are bending 'Neath the weight of drifted snow,While from every spray depending Prisomed icy sickles glow.
The moonlight's chilly glimmer On the glassy river plays,And the waves' reflected shimmer Faintly answers to its rays.
The plaintive winds are sighing Sadly round the bending eaves,Like a suffering mortal dying For the charity none gives.
Thus the outer world is clouded With the heaviness of gloom; ​And the cold earth lies enshrouded As apparelled for the tomb.
But the Winter King, whose minions Are the frosty wind and hail,Soon shall yield his wide dominions To the Spring Queen of the Vale.
On her fairy pinions fleetly She is coming to the bowers,With her sunny tresses sweetly Wreathed in dewy wild-wood flowers.
Ah! her loving smiles of gladness Will erase from every heartEvery trace of gloomy sadness, And blissful joys impart.
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