SPRING IS COMING. FAIR SPRING is coming!-'neath her feet, behold Nature's young verdure rise, in am'rous strife O'er the glad earth the floral tribes unfold Their fairest petals, with sweet incense rife! Sweet Spring is coming-lovely, teeming Spring !- Lo! Spring is coming-coming, from the Past, The scatter'd seed that Autumn's whirlwinds cast No-from decay it springs to life anew, And shall thy life, O man! reveal no Spring- Than those the Past in quick succession brought ? Shall no fair graces of the soul abound Sweet Charity on fell Suspicion's tomb, And "meek-eyed Pity" on the reeking ground Where stern Revenge of yore pronounced her doom, And gentle Reason senseless Pride uproot, And Prudence spread her shelt'ring boughs abroad Where rash Presumption hung her deadly fruit Or Speculation airy nothings stored ? Shalt thou, O heart! no Spring within thee know ?— Till in exulting strength they reach the sky! ATONEMENT FOR THE ERRORS OF A PEN. "Deeper than e'er did plummet sound, I'll drown my Book.”—Shakspere's "Tempest.” If e'er to bear one painful thought This little shaft with ink was fraught, Be it for ever dry!— If to throw cheerless gloom around Thy mind,-Oh, then, "Deeper than e'er did plummet sound," I'll drown my Pen !" If one sad doubt e'er shook thy breast,― If once it wrote me changed, Or, coward-like, the truth suppress'd, And made me seem estranged, 32 ATONEMENT FOR THE ERRORS OF A PEN. Deep it shall lie, and ne'er be found, In Neptune's den— "Deeper than e'er did plummet sound," If o'er thy brow, so calm and clear, One sunless cloud it cast, Or frighted smiles from lips so dear, That past whose reign did so abound With love,-Oh, then, "Deeper than e'er did plummet sound," I'll drown my Pen! If through thy breast one anguish'd thrill If from thine eye a tear- (Though as my life 'twere dear,) I'll reach Contrition's utmost bound, Atoning,-when, Deeper than e'er did plummet sound," I'll drown my Pen! |