Under the influence of the sun the last remnants of winter
vanish, almost, as it seems to us, by magic ; leaves open, birds
sing, and flowers smile from the brown earth. It is as if some
good enchanter had waved his wand and transformed all.’
Lo, Spring is here !  Her soft, transforming hand1
She lays on branches, cold and brown and bare,2
And swift, like work of some magician’s wand,3
Verdure and bloom are round us everywhere :4
Buds open in the warm and perfumed air ;5
And birds’ glad voices thrill the grateful ear ;6
Each moment sees the birth of something fair.7
The April morn is fresh, serene, and clear ;8
No withered forms make sad the heart that grieves9
O’er Autumn’s hectic glory ; all is new,10
And ’mid the loveliness of half-blown leaves,11
The kind Spring sun shines in a heaven of blue.12
Linger a while, delicious days ! ye are13
More charming than full Summer’s radiance far.14