Fulfilment.
‘ 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.’
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