THE NINETEENTH OF APRIL.
[1861.]
THIS year, till late in April, the snow fell thick and light:
Thy flag of truce, kind Nature, in clinging drifts of white,
Hung over field and city:—now everywhere is seen,
In place of that white quietness, a sudden glow of green.
Thy flag of truce, kind Nature, in clinging drifts of white,
Hung over field and city:—now everywhere is seen,
In place of that white quietness, a sudden glow of green.
The verdure climbs the Common, beneath the leafless trees,
To where the glorious Stars and Stripes are floating on the breeze.
There, suddenly as Spring awoke from Winter's snow-draped gloom,
The Passion-Flower of Seventy-Six is bursting into bloom.
To where the glorious Stars and Stripes are floating on the breeze.
There, suddenly as Spring awoke from Winter's snow-draped gloom,
The Passion-Flower of Seventy-Six is bursting into bloom.
