A Southern Spring Carol.
O Spring! O Spring! O Southern Spring!
What a triumphal song you sing!
All the valley sings!
Nor only warblers who have wings;
All the peach and almond blossom
Seems young carol from their bosom
In the form of flowers,
Wandering every way
On many a spray,
Rills in the blue day,
Very bird-notes in a spray,
Filling all the valley.
And I deem that, as they dally
In the summer light intense,
In the deep Italian blue,
A subtle spirit influence
May re-enchant them to a dew
Of melody pure-hearted,
Hither and thither parted,
From the bosom of the birds,
