This page has been validated.
BROOK-SONG: TO THE SPRING
Obeauty! vision of forgotten gladness!
Fulfillment of a dream that ne'er betrays!
O miracle of hope, and balm of sadness!
Creative ecstasy and fount of praise!
·······
I lay upon the ground and gave no token,
I hid my face mid sodden leaves and sere,
My languid pulses chill, my spirit broken,—
I knew not, O divine one! you were near;
For snows and frosts of winter, new-departed,
Still held my will in thrall and weighed me down;
3
