FRANCIS ALLAN MARSHALL ■■ — . - -- ..-.-... ■ iw m i u m n i Mi ioM wiwi w w in i> im »m umiMim THE LIBRARY OF THE UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LOS ANGELES •v THE FLOWERS OF SPRING. [For Private Circulation."] THE FLOWERS OF SPRING. % Jam. BY FRANCIS ALLAN MARSHALL. EDINBURGH: PRINTED BY BALLANTYNE, HANSON AND CO., 1878. PART FIRST ck/t <\ Q« ANALYSIS OF PAET FIEST. Recommendation of the subject — The Invitation— Effects of the transition from Winter to Spring upon the face of Nature and the animated creation — The selection of a proper situation the first step towards the formation of a garden ; general features that recommend a locality ; judgment required in allotting and laving out the grounds ; the advantages of sufficient and freely-distributed shelter ; the natural protection of trees and hedges more efficient than artificial erections — Operations of the florist at the commencement of the season — The pleasures of a life devoted to retirement and the study of Nature in her flowery kingdom— Progress of Spring in decorating the earth ; comparison of the opening flower with early womanhood, containing an encomium upon Modesty — Youth and the dawning of the passions typified ; the regrets for the past pleasures of youth qualified by the expansion of the mind in mature years ; the liability of the young to die as well as the old ; an illustrative example — Precautious to be taken in the management and rearing of delicate plants ; reflections on the similarity of the cares attendant on the early stage of flowers and our childhood ; the influence of maternal solicitude ; the per- versity of some children ; the distressing results of their conduct ; a dereliction from the paths of virtue more deplorable than death ; con- tiugeut calamities of life ; their effect on the character — The folly of man in seeking relief at every source but the only efficient One — Mis- fortune and disappointment the common inheritance of all ; their tendency to make us discontented with life ; the misanthrope's de- clamation — Contentment the fountain of happiness ; a placid river emblematic of a satisfied and serene heart — The earth not entirely devoid of beauty, whether moral or material — Objects of interest in the natural world — Mental graces; the amenities of Memory, Con- templation, Fancy, Imagination, and Hope —Attributes of the heart : Friendship, Love, Truth, Honour, Benevolence, and Gratitude- General panegyric on Virtue and Nature. THE FLOWERS OF SPRING. SPHERE is a winning pleasure in the sight Of Flora's gifts in Nature's morn displayed ; There is a boundless space for Fancy's flight In garden, forest, field, or velvet glade ; There's music in the rustling leaves, and love In every blushing flower, in every breath Swoll'n with the fragrance of the inviting grove, Or gathering sweets upon the blossomed heath. Yet not alone such charms invite the Muse The vernal beauties of the world to sing ; From the green leaf and blossom's varied hues The sweetest feelings of our nature spring — io THE FLOWERS OF SPUING. Hope, peace, and gentle sympathy in turn Smile from the flower to calm the troubled heart, Bidding each happier sentiment return, And shed a sweetness 'mid affliction's smart. Each brilliant hue with eloquence is rife, Each fragile twig a thousand thoughts portrays ; Each bursting bud, each lowly withered leaf, In miniature the life of man displays. ii. Come, let us loiter o'er the smooth expanse Of the green lawn, whose bosom, studded o'er With yellow crocus peeping out askance Like timid stars, invites us from the door; Thence to the abode of flowers ; flowers tended oft By thy fair hand, and nourished by thy smile; 1 ial beauties on the earth engraffed, That tempt Euphrosyne to linger still : < >r hie we to the shade which gay festoons I )f blossom-loaded branches cast around < >n yonder knoll: each bird its pipe attunes, And warbled welcomes through the air resound. Ah ye I know thou Invest the shade, for there The ardour of thy blush is hid; the leavelets lend THE FLOWERS OF SPRING. n Their umbrel crowds the chiding look to spare, Which oft reproving meant but to commend ! Is't not so, dearest Rosie ? Ah ! 'tis vain To crush the dawning smile that hovers round Thy downcast eyes ; see how it peeps again, Like a sly bird in flowery ambush found. in. In gloomy Winter Flora hides her charms, Till smiling Spring wakes to her anxious view ; 'Tis then she, joyous, stretches forth her arms To bless the world, and bid it bloom anew. Thrice welcome Spring, sweet morning of the year, Like dawn uprising from the ocean's breast ; With smiles thou com'st, from Winter's gloom to cheer, And whisper gladness to the heart depressed. No longer Nature pines in chilling grief, But gladsome smiles o'er every feature play ; The flower its blossom and the tree its leaf Expand in virgin freshness to the day. Here bounds the stream, from icy thrall released, Its limpid waters shedding hearth around ; The valley there spreads out the verdant feast For bleating flocks that dot the sloping ground. i2 THE FLOWERS OF SPRING. Loud from the forest comes the vocal strain In noisy tumult, many a little bill Gushing with song, outpoured upon the plain, And faintly echoed back from hill to hill. Myriads of insects dance upon the wing, Or humbly urge their unseen course beneath Some mossy trunk or stone ; or blithely sing The livelong day, or spin the snaring wreath. Now spring the fishes at the thoughtless fly That near or on the glassy river roves, Or shoot like arrows from the gazer's eye, Far in the depths or 'neath their watery groves. And man looks forth, and wonders at the change, While grateful gladness thrills his pondering soul ; Abroad he walks o'er Nature's widest range, And by observing learns t' enjoy the whole. But to our task ; let Flora be our theme, And Love the prompter of the ready strain ; Thine eyes approve ; my lips the look redeem, Sweet prelude ! come, one little kiss again ! IV. Ere Nature led fair Flora to her throne, And to her charge the callow earth consigned, THE FLOWERS OF SPRING. .3 Her hand the limits of the favoured zone By ocean's proudly swelling waves defined ; Mountains and hills were studded o'er the land, The vales below from wasting storms to shield ; Streams trickled down in many a glittering hand, And showers were strewn to glad the thirsty field. So for thy garden choose thee out a spot, Sheltered, but not confined ; a deep-soiled plain, Where herbs spontaneous from the earth have shot, And babbling streamlets skirt the rich demesne. Observe the virtues of the varying ground, And give each plant the soil it loves to grace ; Here gentle slopes where sun-fed flowers are found, And watery hollows for the bulbous race. Strew numerous bushes o'er the rising "round, The Pyrus and the Laurustinus fair ; Fencing with laurel and with holly round, That ever verdant bloom throughout the year. These break the current of the impetuous gust ; Even as the headlong stream through moss will ooze, Or tangled roots, gently, like richest must Fat dropping from the press in golden hues. i 4 THE FLOWERS OF SPRING. The intercepting rock but spurs the wave, Which, rolling down, gains force by force opposed ; So walls the winds, which, sweeping over, leave But little space protected though enclosed. Better than such are Nature's own designs, Herself the first and best of architects ; Each class a graduated scale defines, The tree the shrub, the shrub the flower protects. Yet Art may aid fair Nature with her skill, And sraoothe the path whereon her footsteps go ; A charming office left for man to fill, A joint copartnery with heaven below ! ' frowned by the milky thorn, the deep-sunk fence At once utility and taste combines ; Forming 'gainst fur-clad foes a sure defence, It marks the bounds by fairest flowering line- But for the peach-tree or the honied pear The he> lie must yield before the formal wall ; Place it in some unnoticed corner, where The sun's warm rays may on its surface fall. High trees behind its rigid line will break, The broad-leaved plane, the elm, and flowering lime, Loaded with choral bees, whose Iiummings wake Within the softened heart the grateful hymn. THE FLOWERS OF SPRING. .5 v. The Spring begun, man too begins his toil, Upturns the mould and clears away the weeds ; Here plants the cutting in the fostered soil, And sows the various early springing seeds. Some he reserves till warmer skies induce A surer hope of future recompense ; Some deep embedded, others scattered loose, As each requires exposure or defence. The fragile shoots with fostering care he tends ; His fond regards the early blossom knows ; The peerless snowdrop with the crocus blends Its matin smiles to thank him as he goes. The fruit trees from superfluous germs he clears ; Transplants and graffs where barrenness prevails ; On the thick box he plies the glancing shears, And weaves lush honeysuckle through the rails. He trains the ivy and the jasmine's bough Eound gnarled trunk and over ruined wall ; Sharpens his scythe the velvet lawn to mow ; Trims the green hedge and prunes the poplar tall. i6 THE FLOWERS OF SPRING. VI. For him are many pleasures stored, who thus Flies worldly cares, and Nature seeks aright ; Nor heaves one sigh for all the fret and fuss His fellow-creatures blindly think delight. Peace, like a rainbow, shines around his home, Where bliss domestic welcomes him with smiles ; In vain the world invites his feet to roam, In vain allures him with its fairest wiles — Just as the leaf which on the current tossed, 'Mid noise and strife, into some nook at last, Sheltered by mimic rocks and branches crossed, By a chance wave will happily be cast : There all secure it circles round and round Its little haven, gemmed with airy bells ; Nor seeks to wander o'er its watery bound, But in the quiet retreat contented dwells : So in his garden or the green- clad vale, Sick of the tiring turmoil of the town, The man o'er whom the charms of peace prevail Passes through life without one tear or frown. The widespread pleasure-grounds beguile his hours At thoughtful eve or in the glowing noon ; THE FLOWERS OF SPRING. 17 And every bird its merriest carol pours ; The wild bee, too, hums out its simple tune. The breezy path by box or seapink fringed, And crisp with rattling pebbles thickly laid, Guides 'midst young flowers, in morning's blushes tinged, To the quiet grot, all moss and shells inlaid. Or winds around the small translucent pool, Crowded with golden fish that rise and fall, Or dash away in many a frightened shoal, Like mimic meteors scattered by a squall. Else, hewn through rocks, it courts the streamlet's sound, Whose waters trickle o'er a moss-grown ledge In some dark nook, where silence reigns around, And mournful willows kiss the flowering sedge. Thence striking inwards through the vista'd grove, In long-drawn lines, converges to a point At some rude statue, raised perhaps to Love, Which Dawn's young tears each rosy morn anoint. Whilst cool and fresh, by budding bosquets hemmed, And mazy shades that tempt the weary eye, Soft banks of verdant turf with daisies gemmed Invite the loiterer on the couch to lie. iS THE FLOWERS OF SPRING. And all around the interlacing boughs I >efy the eye to pierce the grateful gloom : Tis Love's domain, and verduous beauty glows, Surfeiting the still air with sweet perfume. Peaceful retreats, delicious shades, where love Unseen allures the prologue of a kiss, How oft your charms congenial souls approve, And trembling transports own th' erotic bliss ! But shun these groves, ye soft and yielding fair, "Where the shy sunbeams scarce the blush betray ; Where sighs infectious fdl the whispering air, And love's sweet languors o'er the senses play ! VII. See now the eartli resplendently attired In robes of green and diadems of flowers, ( rems of ;dl hues, with laughing youth inspired, That sweeten life, and cheer when sorrow lowers. The sparkling rills like liquid diamonds shine, And branching trees the waving fringe supply; The veiling vapours in the glen recline, Or like a halo on the hill-top lie — All is enchanting, and the clamorous mirth Of busy birds reverberates through the trees: THE FLOWERS OF SPRING. 19 While ripening buds their little lips put forth, To taste the kisses of the roving breeze. How beauteous is the bud ere yet its charms Burst forth luxuriant in the embrace of May ! Like a young maid, so full of soft alarms, Wishing, yet fearing, for the bridal day ! Ileplete with modesty and artless grace, Its coy young petals shun the effulgent light, Till Spring enfolds it in her warm embrace, And all its virgin charms reveals to sight — Oh, Modesty ! how sweet a bud thou art, Adorning even where beauty spares her smiles — What charm like thee can fascinate the heart, Or lend such witchery to woman's wiles ? As the meek violet, bending o'er the sod, Surpasses far the gaudy sunflower's glare ; Or the sweet-scented pink, the humid clod Decks more than when the gorgeous dahlia's there : So Modesty doth mark how truly vain The hollow pomp of pampered pride's display ; So do the heart's warm sentiments retain A greater charm than brilliant beauty's sway. There's many a virtue in the modest flower That lowly lurks beneath some straggling weed ; -o THE FLOWERS OF SPRING. There's many a hue shot from the limpid shower That leaves its heaven to bless the bursting seed : So is there worth in many a humble mind Condemned to flourish on a barren soil ; So is there beauty of a heavenly kind In many a form that scorns not honest toil. VIII. What emblem fit to paint the morn of Youth, Ere thrilling passions swell the tiny vein ; Ere yet the unconscious sigh, the hidden truth That some fond object fills each thought, proclaim ? 'Tis like a flower in the cold moonlight nursed ; Though sleeping, still it lives, it breathes awhile ; But yet no odours on the senses burst, Xo harmonising tints the eye beguile. But when the kiss of Dawn drops on its eyes In one dissolving ray of rapturous life, How fast and warm the ready blushes rise, While sweetest scents attest the inward strife. Ah, guileless youth, too fleet's thy nimble course; Too soon the cares of life usurp its joys ; But with its cares is opened yet a source Of calm felicity that never cloys: THE FLOWERS OF SPRING. 21 The charm of mind and intellectual power Their quenchless lustre shed around the soul, Gaining new vigour from each flying hour, Till, ripe for heaven, they pass the earthly goal. IX. But sad it is that Death has power to blight The early blossom as the age- worn plant ; Nor charms of virtue, grace, nor beauty's might The blow can fend ; the poisoned sting supplant. One maid I knew, a sweet and simple child, Of beauty so refined she seemed the birth Of some far distant, purer sphere, beguiled By the false glitter of this selfish earth : So gentle and ingenuous her mind, Her form so sprightly, and her cheek so fair ; Warm in her friendship; generous and kind, In pity's cause with others' griefs to share : She verged upon the time when Love's fond sway First agitates the bosom of the fair ; Sometimes a thrill within her veins would play, Like the swift meteor in the elastic air : A few short months, and then these germs of love Would spread their leaves, luxuriant and green ; 22 THE FLOWERS OF SPRING. And her young heart the sentiment would prove In all its purity, of bliss supreme. But to grim Death the mandate drear was given To pluck the bud ere Summer's sun should shine ; He grieving cut, and bore the gem to heaven, To bloom for ever 'neath the throne Divine. Thus fades the smile from beauty's glowing eye, The rainbow's colours from the admirer's gaze ; So does the note of woodland songster die, As to the heavens ascends its hymn of praise. x. Be careful how you treat the tender Mower Whose opening charms Aurora's kisses share, Where rest the crystals of the dewy shower, Like priceless gems on bosom of the fair. Touch not its velvet breast, for e'en a breath Would almost rob it of its cherished sign ( If pure virginity ; 'twere better death Than that in sullied beauty it should pine. Blend various colours in the embosomed bed; Contrasted beauties seem more beauteous still : Bere Little flowers, there plants of prouder head, Arrange with taste and cultivate with skill. Til E FLOWERS OF SPRING. 23 Where venturous offsets seek a higher clime, Curb not the young ambition of their heart, Hut on the trellis teach them how to climb, Or to the stony pile a charm impart. Some flowers there are whose delicacy's such That every clay exacts more tender care ; A sudden wind, or frost's most transient touch, Snaps the slight stalk, or blasts the blossom fair. And oft the offspring of the day is doomed To wither 'neath the clammy touch of night, And cherished flowers that in the sunset bloomed, At dawn present but dead leaves to the sight. Sometimes, though all a loving hand can lend Be lavished on the helpless little flower, Its leaf will wither, low its stem will bend, And Death's untimely shadow o'er it lower. All gentler methods failed, with searching art Probe to the root the hidden morbidness, And with a steady hand the unhealthy part Lop off, nor spare in misplaced tenderness. Sweet is the guerdon that awaits our pains, When from each branch a healthful bud depends ; When every leaf its verdant hue regains, And all erect the virile stem extends. 24 THE FLOWERS OF SPRING. XI. How like our childhood are such feeble plants, Reared in unceasing watchfulness and care : A mother's love a thousand ills supplants, Diffuses joy, and dries the scalding tear — A mother's love ! oh, fairest flower that grows In all the garden of the human heart ; Pure as the lily, sweeter than the rose ; Nature's proud boast where'er thou, woman, art ! Early she guides from Vice's hidden shoals, Ere yet the mind the fatal lures can scan ; Tempers the will ; our appetites controls, And forms the tastes that mark the future man. But oft the sagest culture cannot change The innate cravings of the vicious mind ; And native disposition seeks to range, By wholesome laws and customs unconfined : The ungrateful son, at manhood's opening morn, Dashes the hopes of parents to the ground ; The wayward girl, with giddy impulse borne, Blasts her fair name, and misery spreads around. THE FLOWERS OF SPRING. 25 XII. Ob, keenest pang for tender heart to Lear, When Virtue's laws are scattered to the wind : Though death come in, and closest unions tear, A grief less poignant wrings the tortured mind : Perhaps our fondest joy — our every theme — Drops in her virgin charms into the grave, And the crushed heart, in which she dwelt supreme, Despair's rude laugh alone is left to brave. Or, less afflicting, though most sadly dire, The youth of promise numbered with the dead ; His early genius and its kindling fire — His warm affections — generous spirit — fled ! All fled — all gone beyond the reach of time, Or sorrowing friends ; and he whose smile brought Whose look gave hope — cut off before his prime ; His father's pride, his mother's darling boy ! Or here a brother mourns a brother's doom ; A wife her husband, or a son his sire : Torn from domestic joys to feed the tomb, And 'mid their noon of usefulness expire. Such is the flimsy fabric of our life ; Such its uncertainties, its fears, its woes : 26 THE Flo WE US OF SPRING. A scene of mingled gladness, pain, and strife: A smile of mirth 'midst death's convulsive throes ; ( 'ares gall the spirit ; numerous trifles tease, And every breath our stoicism o'erturns ; While often, as we dream of peace and ease, We wake to find us on a Led of thorns, ills unforeseen await on man's career, That try the spirit with an iron rod; Till, vanquished by alternate hope and fear, Unheard by man, he seeks at last his God. XIII. Strange, that the being who depends for all On his Creator, asks not His support Till every prop on which he trusted fall — And then he prays — but as a last resort ! Nor seeks he even then the will of Heaven, But asks of God to ratify his own : No love enticing, but by interest driven, His prayers become an insult to the throne : Bui I'd by grace, in meekness and in faith, The humble suppliant never prays in vain ; For him is opened many a cheering path, And many a spring to mitigate his pain. THE FLOWERS OF SPRING. 27 Yet Providence ordains that every son Of fallen Adam should the curse partake In some degree, while here his course doth run, To curb his pride, and haughty spirit break. Sometimes the friend on whom we all relied Betrays our trust, and proves a heartless fiend ; The crowd that fawned when fortune nought denied, 'Mid adverse winds no helping hand will lend : Justice delayed, and oft refused at last, The upright suffers while the rogue escapes. — Such make the happiest hour seem overcast With misanthropic clouds and hateful shapes. XIV. " What care I for this world ; its pompous state, Its meagre pleasures, or its gaudy garb ? The sweetest smile may veil a rancorous hate, The fondest language point the poisoned barb. Give me to roam upon the mountain side, Where wild oaks wave in rude luxuriance round ; Where warring echoes on the whirlwind ride, And rocks rear high in time-wrought chaplets crowned. 28 THE FLOWERS OF SPRING. There's many a brilliant dye that passeth show In these rough pebbles scattered on the shore; There's sparkling crystals in the tintless snow, That spreads its whiteness o'er the cheerless moor; So, 'neath the rude exterior, oft the heart Of lofty aspirations dormant lies ; So, frozen by a selfish world's art, The sparks of modest genius faintly rise. Oh that, when death his welcome visit pays, My bones may rest beneath the mossy mould Of some high hill where breezy zephyr plays, And orient smiles in glowing tints unfold. Quick then shall pass the winter of this world, Its heartless forms and mercenary ties ; And thy broad flag, Eternal Peace, unfurled, Shall lead to glory in the opening skies !" xv. Too oft this strain by human lips is breathed, With blighted hopes and disappointment stung; Bappy is he who, in contentment sheathed, Holds on his course by mundane cares unwrung. THE FLOWERS OF SPRING. 29 Fixed on a better land his every hope, The trials of the present move him not ; And though he tread not on the sunny slope, His heart contented ne'er repines its lot. As softly rolling to its ocean home, Through some sequestered vale or peaceful dell, The crystal streamlet bears the imaged dome Of the blue sky upon its bosom's swell — So heaven is mirrored in the heart content, Who thankful takes, nor seeks a fault to find ; Serene and happy all his hours are spent, Good to himself, to others just and kind. xvi. Much that is beautiful still glads this earth, Though Eden's smile not every step we take ; Much that can claim both purity and worth, And noblest feelings in our bosoms wake. The mountain, holding converse with the sky, Dignified and dim, like to a monarch stands, Calm and unmoved, while misty halos lie Bound its high summit in attendant bands. The valley wakes the echoes with its songs, And in a stream collects the enriching showers ; 30 THE F 'LOWE US OF SPRING. The buoyant wave upbears the freighted throngs, And thou, fair Flora, deck'st the earth with flowers. Listen to Nature's voice, and thoughtful hear The ocean's surge loud dashing on the shore, The whispering breeze, the hurricane's career, The rill's sweet prattle, and the torrent's roar ! Or scan her mighty handiwork, and learn Whence come the viewless winds, or where Gather the floods impetuous ; or discern The birthplace of the lightning's lurid glare. Or, couched upon a yielding heather tuft, Shaded by vocal thorn or flaunting rose, Gaze with a pensive, musing eye aloft On the deep blue or fleecy cloud's repose. 'Tis then in fancy that we love to stray 15ack to old scenes which present joys excel ; Spots 'mid the valley of life's chequered way, "Where memory loves to expatiate on and dwell. Old thoughts recalled come kindling into life, And happiest hours long past away return ; And all the cares, the worldly pains and strife, Forgotten lie when thus our bosoms burn. THE FLOW KUS OF SPUING. 31 XVII. From Memory's dream the musing mind reverts To the attractions of the present hour ; Each little interest for a time diverts, Or makes the brow with transient gloom to lower : Eccentric Fancy, meteor-like, disports With fitful flutter round each passing thought; Gleams here and there, this rudely now distorts, Now clothes in robes of glittering tinsel wrought. Her sister, proud Imagination, soars 'Mid the dim embryos of a future day ; Or wanders far upon the dreamy shores Of that fair clime which blooms in endless May ; Or roams enraptured o'er Elysian plains, Peopling the groves with happiness and love ; Or thrills the ear with sweet deceptive strains Of promised joys with life's fleet thread inwove. Thus, Hope full oft a ready prompter finds, Too flattering to be true, too slight to stand ; With fairest sophistry the reason blinds, And sows her treasures on the barren sand. Still, dull and flat indeed would be our lot, Were no fond dream of hope-fed bliss bestowed ; 32 THE FLOWERS OF SPRING. Xo bright ideal world, where, all forgot Our many cares, with fancied joys we glowed. Yes, Hope, thou art a kind and gentle soul, That ever smiles though all around us frown ; And cheers us even to life's very goal, When earth we leave to gain the hoped-for crown. XVIII. And thou, warm Friendship, foretaste of that heaven "Where all is pure and generous and sincere, Dost still, though oft to humble regions driven, Dwell with the children of this lower sphere. Oh, 'tis a sight ecstatic to behold The faithful hands, that joined in laughing youth, Cling yet together fast, when frail and old ; Through all their lives the ministers of rath. Nursling of Friendship, Love springs into view, And thrills the bosom with a soft desire : 'Tis a young blossom of so fair a hue, That all who see it, having hearts, admire. Love 'a like a streamlet glittering in the sun, Each dancing wavelet quivers with delight; THE FLOWERS OF STRING. 33 « Kt smiling meads its tuneful waters run, And flowery banks to taste its sweets invite : But Friendship is a noLle, deep-welled river, Serenely flowing with unruffled breast Through its own native rocks and vales for ever, Till in the Eternal Sea it takes its rest. Such the affection that the sire and son Binds in a unison no storm can rend ; And loving thus, the oppressed but spotless One Who dwelt our brother, called himself our friend. XIX. And bland Benevolence, prompting to deeds Of private charity and general good ; Which feels for all ; for others' misery bleeds, And wants herself to give a fellow food. Xo sickening display or vain parade Dims the soft lustre of her generous beam ; She veils her face and courts the untrodden shade, To cast her bread where all evade the stream. Nor wants the liberal hand its rich reward Where feeling Gratitude the breast inspires, And thankful lips the worthy deed record Before heaven's throne and the assembled choirs. c J 4 THE F LOWERS OF SPRING. Oh, the fond yearning of the grateful heart To tell its feelings in a fitting strain, Or have the happiness ere long t' impart Some proof its protestations were not vain. xx. And Truth, eternity-enduring Truth ! That amaranthine flower that fades not ever, Nor sheds one beauty of its vernal youth, Though warring elements around it hover. Like to a rock amid the surgy wave, Coeval with creation planted there, Tin mgh thousand lashing storms about it rave, Unmoved its cliffs the baffled tempests dare : The assailant wave is dashed in ruin back, Without one effort of its giant might; Like scattered pebbles down the mountain's track, Or the damned souls from heaven's effulgent light tanda the truth, and so will ever stand, Through the unfathomable depth eterne Of unsprung ages, when the palsied hand I )£ Time has ceased the fleeting sands to turn. TEE FLOWERS OF SPRING. 35 XXL These are the gems which yet our race adorn, And indicate by whom we were designed. Proud thought ! we own, however humbly born, A heart to feel ; to think, the immortal mind ! And thus this world of ours is beautiful ; For while an herb shall grow or bird shall sing, Lo, there a hand omnipotent shall rule, And every season with its bounties bring. Who then shall say, nor pure, nor fair, nor bright Is this green earth in all its varied charms ? Seal up your eyes ; for you the dawning light Shines not, nor Nature spreads her bounteous arms. Who then shall say the human heart and mind Put forth no flower, nor own a taintless spring ? Go, joyless man, by narrow views confined, To your own glooms, nor fetter Virtue's wing. Oh, I could sing, with never-wearied strains, Earth's blooming vestiture, the world of flowers, The paradise of Nature ; there she reigns Supreme, yet links her fondling arms with ours ; And all the love a mother bears her child Burns in her bosom for her countless race ; — 36 THE FLOWERS OF SPRING. For them she makes the chilling breezes mild, And blends in rudest forms a native grace; For them pours forth a flood of fostering heat, And streams of gushing light, and scattered dew, That makes the old earth fresh, and young, and sweet, As when it burst upon the enraptured view. Si ill on thy breast I hang, Nature, still, And draw such streams of rapture-breathing life As chain me closer to thy bosom, till M' insatiate lips do grow thereon, all rife With the uncloying sweets thy fountains yield, And rosy buds and smooth inviting hills : — Oh, feed me ever thus, and grove and field Shall learn what love my grateful bosom fills, Shall learn how measureless thy generous sway, Theme of all ages and of every clime, Who see in thee, thou star of sweetest ray, The all-creative hand of God Divine ! PART SECOND. ANALYSIS OF PART SECOND. The appearance of the first Spring, and introduction of man into Ids flowery Paradise —Woman, the fairest blossom and chief source of our happiness, eulogised — Recollections of the rambles of childhood amongst the fields and on the hillsides — These scenes revisited, and the wild flowers of Spring enumerated in the localities they frequent — Roadside flowers, meadow flowers, hillside flowers, flowering trees of the forest — Fable of Love and the Naiads — Rivers apostrophised : the Esk, the Tyne, the Eden, and the Tweed — All happiness here mingled with sorrow ; the flexibility of the youthful heart — Beauty, fleeting as it is attractive— Roslin Castle: episode of Gervas and Lucy— River and marsh flowers — Return to the garden — The flower- ing trees of the garden — Fruit trees and bushes— Spring flowers and their sentiments — The day of rest extolled — Fabulous origin of the rose— The poet's address to his companion— Valedictory invocations and conclusion. ( 4' ) TTTHEN first fair Nature in her vernal smiles Sprung from the hand of the creative God, The fields grew green, the hills and watery isles Spread forth the tribute of the pregnant sod : Earth seemed a paradise epitomised, And man was formed sole monarch of the scene ; Far as his eye could range, he recognised, With rapturous wonderment, his wide domain. Yet as he gazed on all so fair and new, He owned a want still lingered in his breast, Till gentle woman met his ravished view, And blushing stood in all her charms confessed. Choicest of flowers ! even Nature without thee Would cease to charm, howe'er profuse and fair ; But blessed with thy kind smile, who would not see A heaven on earth, though nought but thou wert there ? What boon more precious could the heart desire ? Perfection moulded in a human form ; 42 TIIE FLOWERS OF SPRING. "Wliose pureness wins, whose graces all conspire The soul to gladden and the heart reform. Breath like the new-mown hay, that, loosely piled In hillocked heaps, flings fragrance through the air; A voice melodious, and as sweetly mild As when young doves their mutual joys declare : The budding mouth and melting eye seduce — One by a smile, the other by a tear; The shining locks, in ringlets waving loose, Float o'er a neck of alabaster clear. The buoyant breast, half hid and half displayed (The couch of love and pillow of delight !) The azure veins in tiny branches spread Beneath a skin transparent, soft, and white. Pure as she's fair, and gentle as she's pure, "Who for a world would woman's rights refuse ? The perfect work, last formed by skill mature, Claimed early homage from the youthful muse. Oh, ye gay fields, green vales, and mountains grey, To memory dear, the scenes of purest joys THE FLOWERS OF SPRING. 43 With thee partaken, fairest Rosie ; say, Will ye again our raptured hearts rejoice ? Will sunny banks our wandering feet invite, Too prone to ramble thoughtlessly along ; Or playful herds our laughing eyes delight, Or ears attentive drink the tender song ? Will purling streams their lucid freshness lead In dimpling eddies round our dangling limbs ; Or the green grasshopper, upon the mead, Sing to the sun its never-ceasing hymns ? Will I again climb up the frowning steep For some lone flower you long to make your own, While you all trembling piteously will weep And call me back, till safe I clamber down ? Or cull ripe berries for your pretty mouth, The bramble clustered or the bursting blae ; Or sprinkle heath-bells in your tresses smooth, Or gather shells to make your grot more gay ? Ah no ; I fear these simple times are past, For childhood's pastimes with its years expire ; As springing flowers their early foliage cast, And ripening charms to higher spheres aspire. Yet how I love to ponder on those days, When, stretched together on the fragrant heath, 44 THE FLOWERS OF SPRING. Some little floweret caught our mutual gaze, And mingling locks were blent in many a wreath : We scanned its beauties, but refused to pull The lovely offspring from its fostering stem ; - tree dared my lips to kiss, but thine were full Of such fresh sweets, they beautified the gem. Or, gazing upwards in the glowing sky, We hushed our breath to catch the heaven-fraught song, Copious and rich, the young lark's minstrelsy, Poured out of sight the marbled clouds among. < ft roamed the woods where soft the cuckoo's note Published the gladsome tidings of the Spring ; Or 'mid the meadow's blooming verdure sought, With childish awe, the fairies' mystic ring. All day to loitei out the unreckoned hours, Till star-lit skies our footsteps homeward led ; And far away Craigmillar's mouldering towers, Like some huge spectre in the dusk outspread. Then would you press more closely to my side, As the gloom thickened round our little forms, And fear some evil might our way betide, While I, a hero, .soothed your vain alarms. THE FLOWERS OF SPUING. 45 And if, perchance, a startled bird brushed past, Or moaning wind the creaking branches moved, Cow'ring around your timid glance was cast, And throbbing heart the transient terror proved. Nor would the dusky object laying low Cause less alarm, when heated fancy traced In bush or stone some lurking monster foe, Till venturous steps the dim illusion chased. Yet would we linger for a while to view, With curious eye, the living lamp of night, Placidly shining with a lambent blue, Beneath the hedge or on the furrow's height. Or trace the wisp gay dancing o'er the bog, Well warned against its wiles by many a tale ; As meteors gleaming through the gathering fog- Startled our gaze and lighted up the vale. And then at last the illumined windows nigh Through ravelled branches, brightly glimmering, shone ; While Colley, watchful, owned our well-known cry, And gaily gambolled up the darksome loan. Smiles met our entrance, and the milk, new-drawn, Frothy and rich, in copious brimmers bound, Cooled our parched lips, and made us fresh as dawn, As home, sweet home, our day of pleasure crowned. 46 THE FLOWERS OF SPRING. The sun is pillowed on a little cloud Of snowy bosom, girt with feathered gold ; The breeze has sprung, dipping amongst the crowd Of blossomed grasses on the spreading wold : Now turn we to the meadow where the lark Hangs for a moment on the twinkling wing, Then, wooed aloft, forsakes the spangled park With spiral wheel, and pipe attuned to sing : Born of the earth, it breathes heaven's elocpience, Still upward soaring through the buoyant air, Till hid from sight amid the blue expanse, It seems as if an angel chanted there. Yet, lo ! how swiftly doth it drop again To the green meadow, where its tender mate, Watchful, and listening to the glowing strain, Beckons it downward from the dizzy height. Elf of the .skies! oh, would I had thy wing, To soar with thee, when, like a seraph mild, Holding sweet converse with the blue-eyed Spring, Ilcavun, raptured, saw and owned thee for its child. What wide profuse of variegated gems ! What treasures lavished on the green expanse ! THE FLOWERS OF SPRING. 47 From the gay cuckoo-flower that early hems Its dewy robe, to beds of tausey dense. that my muse would smile but half as sweet As thou, fair Spring, where flocks thy bounties crave ; T' extol thy charms ; thy welcome advent greet In strains like those the wandering Orpheus gave ! The mountain daisy, fringed with purple hue ; The little cowslip, like a pensive bride ; The honied clover, stored with fragrant dew, And modest bluebell dangling by its side ! On every hand the glossy buttercup Covers the mead with gold ; yet the wild bee Shuns its gay chalice, caring not to sup Its deadly juice, however rich it be : But to the meadow-sweet it humming flies, And nods, and dips, and sings upon its lip, Banqueting on creamy sweets, till gorged it hies With homeward wing, to store its little scrip. Elegant and graceful as the maids it woos To cull its bending spike of yellow flowers, Mild agrimony springs ; a young recluse That shuns the world to smile in Nature's bowers 4 S THE FLOWERS OF SPRING. Tis vain, you timid little violet, To hide your velvet clieek so coyly there Soon shall you deck the flowery coronet, Or heaving bosom of some rustic fair. The crimson-budded bugloss soon to blue Changes its brilliant blossom, like the day Whose dawn from rosy melts to azure hue, And still is beautiful, though changed its ray. Here hoary plantain rears its sombre head, The farmer's bane and shepherd-boy's delight ; Full many a spike is numbered with the dead By rival swains in vigorous mimic fight : And the dandelion with its dazzling crown ( )f gold in youth, and down in ripened age ; How often plucked to mark how time has flown, And sent on many a windy pilgrimage. Ah, tell thee, dost thou say, what simple plant Is that just peeping from the nibbled grass; Whose numerous pale blue florets, radiant With unbrushed dew, on sunny banks amass? Tia the sweet fedia, the lambs' delight, Who crop its juicy leaves with hungry haste And, oft returning, strain the deep-set bite, Till all wound is made a ragged waste. THE FLOWERS OF SPRING. 49 But what is this fair blossom of the dale, Beaded with bells and wreathed in ovate leaves ; Like some pure being of a sinless vale, Where Innocence her spurned charms retrieves ? Sweet convallaria, thou art dear to me, And every heart that sad experience learns Of this strange world's deceit, though fair it be, And boasts of many a soul who flattery spurns. Early the pilewort studs the sheltered brake With topaz stars that sparkle in the sun ; But, like the ox-eye, when the tempests wake, It softly folds its petals one by one. Goatsbeard has closed its eyes and gone to sleep : By this the rustic knows the noon is past, And leaves iris task or quietly browsing sheep, With jovial heart, to take his rude repast. Now rest thee, dearest, on this thymy bed, While from the hillside and the rocks I bring A simple wreath thy silken locks to wed, Of heatherbells and eyebrights opening. Ah, Bosie, favoured are the flowers that deck Thy winning charms, more beautiful than they D 50 THE FLOIVEBS OF SPRING. Sweet is their death who on thy lilied neck Draw their last breath and sigh their souls away. - e here the crimson pimpernel is twined With white sloe blossoms from the cliff's rude face; Cowslips and large blue flax-flowers serpentined "With broom, that erstwhile named a royal race. My task now finished, though so long delayed And dwelt upon, that thou didst chide, nay, pout, Because so oft among thy tresses strayed My fondling fingers with a love devout ; Let us to yonder copse, and on the way For the bee ophrys search the downward slope, Trodden for such as we by herds that stray From the quiet vale with sportive winds to cope. 'Tis of so rare and curious a mould As well repays the diligence bestowed ; Formed like the bee, with belts of woolly gold, And petal horns, and thighs with dusty load : See here a cluster grows : the humble bee Might well mistake the blossoms for its tribe Busy at work, and on the flowery lea trch out some other bloom for sweets t'imbibe. THE FLOWERS OF SPRING. 51 How cool and pleasant is the woodland shade, Where laurel smiles unfading through the year ; And ash and beech trees form a tortuous glade, While the grey linnet sits and whistles near. But chiefly thee, green holly, do I love, For thou, the citadel of birds when chased By bloody taloned hawk, dost faithful prove Their winter store and shelter 'mid its waste. Glossy thy leaves and elegantly formed, Well art thou named among the first of trees ; Ever thy youth retaining, although stormed By wrathful gales that rend the oak with ease. Majestic chestnuts, throwing to the sky Their brawny arms with mantling foliage hung, And spikes of flowers offer a canopy Impervious to the sunbeams, fiercely flung From the unclouded disk that glows aloft : While higher up the nutty hazel paints The steep with many a future kernelled tuft That feed the birds and prompt their dulcet plaints. The elder, too, is beautiful in Spring ; Like specks of snow on distant sunlit hills ; Yet fragrant as the orchis blossoming In purple pride, the breeze with odours fills. 52 THE FLOWERS OF SPRING. Hear'st thou the muffled murmur of the brook That yonder threads its course through flag and rush, Caressing each, and every mossy nook Invading on its way with gentle gush ? By its veiled flow forget-me-nots bestar The grass with gold-eyed azure flowers that cheer Fond lovers' hearts when separated far, Prompting the smile to glisten through the tear. Love is a strange, incongr'ous sort of thing, Formed of anomalies and odd conceits ; Confiding ever, doubts yet frequent spring, To spice the dish of too enchanting sweets. 'Tis said that, straying in the woods one day, Pan caught the god and ducked him in a stream ; But Naiads' bosoms bore him safe away, Where grots looked out upon the water's gleam. Wroth at the insult, Love demanded how I ! venge could be obtained on all his race : They seem, he said, to court my arrowed bow, And writhing, laugh before my very face ! The Naiads smiled, and whispered in his ear, Feather your darts with doubt, our charms will then THE FLOWERS OF SPRING. 53 In Satyr's eyes more charming still appear, And jealous care each fickle breast impregn. Love heard, too prone to take the rash advice, And soiled the quiver, late so pure and bright ; The stain once fixed, to serve a slight caprice, Not weeping Love himself could disunite. My fable's told : what think'st thou of it, love ? Dost ever wish by doubts to harass me ? Or canst thou think my heart could ever prove Jealous of thine, or to thee faithless be ? No, cherished bud ; as soon the briar would loath The sweet-pea coiling round its thorny stem, As I could doubt thy truth and plighted oath, Or find in all the world a lovelier gem ! Eivers ! ye are our childhood's earliest love, Our bosom friends and draught of happiness : Now pensive stealing through the willow grove, Now frolicking with pebble and with cress. The rock-paved Esk, through peerless Hawthorn- den, Has frequent urged m' enthusiastic course Where Drummond once awoke the lyric strain, And ceaseless echoes to the winds discourse. 54 THE FLOWERS OF SPRING. There the shy blackbird, startled, furtive flits Like a dark shadow past the lonesome track ; And spotted mavis in the hedgerow sits, To the blue cushat giving answer back ; While wagtail, fluttering from stone to stone, Fans the bright waters with its twittering wing ; Or poor cockrobin sits and sings alone, Grave for a moment, then as light as Spring. From me the Tyne shall ever win a smile, Its daisied banks not vainly coax to stay : And wandering happy many a winding mile, By Salton's grove and Nisbet's flowery brae, My voice shall mingle with its murmured chant, As erst it did when boyhood's careless tread The gemmed trout startled from its pebbly haunt, Or with the dancing bubble headlong sped. . J hit most to thee, my silver-bosomed Tweed, Does memory turn with Love's rekindling glow : M< thinks I see again thy currents lead My floating fly or tiny vessel's prow : Again I view historic Neidpath frown Front rock to rock with venerable eye; Or from the Leepen's mist-encircled crown Ti-i.ce thy bright path, thou stream of minstrelsy. THE FLOWERS OF SPRING. 55 Sweet Eden, too ; to ine a stream of bliss And young remembrances, still fresh and green As when I first beheld it coyly kiss Eamornie's fields, all tranquil and serene : Full oft my breast has stemmed its tiny tide, Or on its banks I've wiled away the day, Stretched at full length, with Colley by my side, And viewed the clouds glide silently away. No rill so pure but bears its freight of clay ; No bliss so bright but sadness with it blends ; Unmarked perhaps in Youth's bright vernal day, But felt too well when Winter's gloom portends. And yet we know not often whence it springs ; As the bright sky is tapestried with clouds Even as we gaze ; yet from th' horizon wings No vap'ry host, nor mist the earth enshrouds. Tis in our being ; woven with our dream, Our fleeting dream of life ; even too much joy Will stir the dregs to mingle with the stream, And all its hues and brilliancy destroy. Yet soon the sediment is swept away, And brighter seems the fountain than before ; As grief in youth oft leaves the heart more gay, Ere its keen teeth have bitten to the core. 56 THE FLOWERS OF SPRING. But once the worm has gnawed into the pith, God help the tree ! it ne'er can flourish more ; The only certain joy it has, that Death Will soon transplant it on a better shore. How oft has life been painted as a flower, Borne on the bosom of some rapid stream ; Or the bright rainbow glittering in a shower, The echo's voice, or as a transient dream ! The bloom of beauty and the pride of strength Fade like the ephemera, born to live a day : The vital spark, though shot its utmost length, ( I learns like the falling star, then melts away. Frail beauty, thou art fugitive as fair, Thy reign the butterfly or passion-flower's : Ensnaring others, thou dost set the snare That oft, alas ! thy sweetest bloom deflowers. The rose that, smiling on a river's marge, Tempts the bright wave, and flirts with every breeze, Knows not how soon the winds may sing its dirge, And boiling floods its scattered petals seize. Thus beauty smiles, nor dreams that time will blanch The blooming cheek, and bear its rose away; THE FLOWERS OF SPUING. 57 Sparing but leaves upon the rifled branch, Which too, alas ! soon wither and decay. To the dark Esk this trickling brook descends, Ever enlarging as it flows along : As loitering youth to man's estate ascends, And forms a portion of the godlike throng. There we have wandered, and the rocks around Seemed to assuage their gloom as thou appeared ; And ready echo multiplied the sound Of thy sweet voice, to harmony endeared. High are the cliffs, and yonder ruin grey, Perched like an aerie on the upmost rock, Defies the storm, and seems to mock decay, Though its proud towers have felt full many a shock. Komantic Roslin ! oh, with what a charm Hast thou enwrapt my memory-soothed heart ! A love that still is vigorous and warm, And ever will a tranquil joy impart. Round its broad base the sheltering ivy climbs, And the tall foxglove shoots its loaded spire Of princely bells ; while whitlow-grass betimes Clothes the rude wall-top in a white attire. 58 TEE FLOWERS OF SPRING. These let us cherish, as of old we did, When childhood's fingers fostered every shoot That seemed most beautiful, or careful hid In choicest earth the seed or tawny root. Nor are the flowers on yonder mound forgot, "Whose lettered stone a tearful tale unfolds Of two young hearts that 'neath its bondage rot, All silent now in death's destroying folds. But short time past, and who so gay as they ? Than Lucy's spirits what more full and free ? Or who from Gervas ere could bear the bay At manly feat or gallant courtesie ? They loved ; and such a love ! — oh, hearts — Hearts that have felt and fanned each other's flame With all the intensity that love imparts, Ye know that words can never paint the same. Often at noon, along the river's bank, Sportive and happy like two lambs at play, They strayed, pulling the hoary lichens dank, ( )]■ water-lilies nodding to the spray. The silent vale had many charms for them, And woodland echoes oft their vows declared; THE FLOWERS OF SPRING. 59 Full many a stone with mossy diadem Taught them to linger, and their raptures shared. 'Twas thus one morn by Esk's romantic streams Joyous they roamed, stepping from stone to stone, Or skirting 'neath the bellying rocks, whose seams Prolific shoot their crowded branches prone, And the green fern and wind-flower's nodding plume, Own each young breeze that flutters lightly by, Redolent of health ; while casual gleams illume The shadows that on rock and river lie. Here lingered Lucy, nor was Gervas far From that prized form where centred all his love ; Culling bright bouquets for his morning star, Witli slippery rocks and stinging thorns he strove. "Nay, come thee down, most gallant knight," she said, " Thou had'st enough were yonder gem but thine : It grows so high, I fear me thou'rt afraid To scale the steep, courageous lover mine ! " " What says my taunting Lucy ? thinks she now To win revenge for that sweet kiss I stole This rosy morn, ere yet the conscious flow Of blushinir life awoke within her soul ? 60 THE FLOIVEIIS OF SPRING. One other kiss I'll snatch, then haste me on To where this envied blossom hangs secure On its rude fastness ; thence descend anon, And lay the trophy on her bosom pure." " Oh, try it not ! " poor Lucy, weeping, cried, The frightful dangers bursting on her gaze ; The bulging rocks, and pool whose calm belied Its hungry depth and suffocating maze. " I care not for the flower, nor meant you thus To risk your life on that o'erhanging cliff." " Fear not ; the attempt is not so hazardous As thou, kind Lucy, paintest in thy grief : See here, I pluck the flower ; and now I come To plant it smiling on a fairer rock Of living alabaster ; an Elysium Where young delights and sportive graces flock." No more he said, for as he lightly stood, Gazing below upon the trembling maid, The rock gave way, and quick the yawning flood Grappled its prey, and with his struggles played. See Lucy now, distracted and forlorn, With hurried steps close to the brink repair: Her hair dishevelled and her garments torn, She fills the dell with shrieks of wild despair. THE FLOWERS OF SPRING. 61 In vain, poor girl ! thou triest to save thy love, Even lightest winds thy scarf outflung do mock : Thrice has he sunk and thrice appeared above, And now sleeps calmly 'neath the fatal rock. Another plunge ! what can this be ? alas ! Poor Lucy seeks her lover's dreary bed ; But some kind hearts, who happened then to pass, Rushed to her rescue ere the spirit fled. 'Twas a good deed, though but protracting death ; For that dread power had marked her as his own; And though she caught again the living breath, 'Twas just with woe her short-lived day to crown. Oh, doleful fate ! why thus is Lucy robbed In one sad hour of him she held most dear ? And that young breast, which oft with love had throbbed, By anguish torn, is wet with many a tear ? Poor maid ! you little thought, when laughing gay Upon the rocky margin of yon river, So soon your mirthful smile would fade away, And bitterest tears upon your lashes quiver. Ere long was Gervas' lifeless body found, The fatal flower still in his hand embraced ; 62 THE FLOWERS OF SPRING. Fair even in death ; his locks in meshes bound, And Lucy's likeness in his bosom placed. She claimed the flower, and laid it on her breast, Where he had wished its luckless charms to lie : Though fed by tears, and by her sighs caressed, It pined, it drooped, and seemed to wish to die. Nor less did she, for ah ! her heart was rent ; Its fairest blossom broken from its root : No human skill the fragments could cement, Or tender hand restore the ravished shoot. Three suns scarce saw this shattered floweret fade, When her pure soul was wafted to her lover ; And in his grave her fairy form was laid, Where both sleep still beneath one grassy cover. But dry your tears, my Eosie, for my verse Must change to some more animating measure ; Yet sadness lias a tender charm which scarce Is ever found beneath the smiles of pleasure. See yellow butter-burs and bugles skirt Our tangled path, and kiss the bouncing wave; Cuckoo-pint and flowering rushes girt With feathered ferns, a passing tribute crave. While glittering sundew on the marshes spreads Its ruby trap for thoughtless little flies; THE FLOWERS OF SPRING. 63 Like a coquette whose crafty beauty leads The dazzled heart a blinded sacrifice. But haste we to the garden ere the sun Much lower glides adown the western sky, And Flora's gentler nurslings wearied shun The lessening ray of eve's benumbing eye. How delicately fine the scents that come From the broad bosom of the walnut-tree ; How cool its leaves, and soothing is the hum Of the winged hosts, there holding jubilee. With waving plumes hung all around, and sweet As blended nosegays newly culled and fresh, See lilacs o'er the sheltered pathway meet, And twine their branches in an odorous mesh. More gay than sweetly scented, drooping low Their gaudy spikes, like vanity in tears, Laburnums form an ostentatious row Behind the gate whose veteran front appears : Creaking it opens, as if loath to move, Though beauty bids, and lovers on it wait : Too truly thus its failing hinges prove, To love age seldom cares to ope the gate. For youth alone that buoyant ecstasy ; That flight of spirit to some happier sphere ; 64 THE FLOWERS OF SPRING. That all-absorbing, burning fantasy, Enraptured feels and deems without compeer. How soon the illusion melts ! but wherefore grieve, Since love more steadfast and mature succeeds ? Long years of bliss young folly's days retrieve, And fruitful flowers supplant the gaudy weeds. Fair in the Spring the incipient cherry spreads In myriads of blooms as white as snow Upon the gable end, or lonely sheds Its milky tears upon the flowers below. And apple-cups, so delicately tinged With living pink, mingle their fragrant sigh With that of luscious pears and nectarines ranged In smiling lines to catch the sun's bright eye. Nature, at times too lavish of her wealth, Loads the rich tree with germinating buds In such profusion, that its very health, By wasted strength, in copious charms exudes. But Providence, all- watchful, sends the cure; For little birds that hop from twig to twig, Peck the green food superfluous, and insure Increase of strength to every fruitful sprig. The fairest flower springs from a blackened root, And loathsome soils a plenteous harvest yield; THE FLOWERS OF SPRING. 65 The ungainly branch is bent with blushing fruit, And kernels sweet in bitter husks are sealed : So many a coarse exterior hides a heart Of tenderest feeling and most generous mould ; And mental graces oft their charms impart When no fair beauties on the cheek unfold. Knowest thou, sweet Eosie, that one little bud Cut from its parent branch with skill, and plaoed Within a strange tree's bark, where the rich flood Of living sap streams fast, may soon be traced Its own young leaves and blooms unchanged to fling, As if it yet adorned its parent tree : So from the heart the germs of Virtue spring, The same in all, though differing in degree. The pungent rasp a future promise holds Of pendent delicacies yet in bloom ; The ambrosial strawberry on slopes unfolds Even now its ripening fruit and fresh perfume : While gooseberries, gemmed o'er with shining globes, Make many a longing lip and thirsty tongue ; And currant-bushes spread their verdant robes, With clustered pearls or sparkling rubies hung. Fresh starting from the sward, the crocus swells Full on the eye ere Winter's chill is past, 66 THE FLOWERS OF SPRING. Like drops of gold, or "blue enamelled shells Upon a shore of waving em'ralds cast. Delicious flower ! so ardent and so bright, Amid congealing blasts and sunless skies, How oft my heart has bounded with delight, As first I'd see thy tiny blade arise ! lie mine the task to learn, sweet plant, from thee, To spurn the vacant luxury of ease ; To nurse the spirit of the brave and free, And feel a warmth, though all around me freeze. Come with thy charming flowers to grace my wreath, Sweetest hepatica, that from the snow Puts forth thy glowing lip to taste the breath Of the young breezes wantoning below ; And let me sing thy graces, for thou art A favourite with me and with my love ; Full oft I've sought thee when I've felt the smart < )f grief — and thou didst oft a solace prove ; For thou dost smile with such a winning air, And seem'st so earnest in thy modest way, That I have been constrained at least to wear < r.iy looks, although my heart was far from gay. And thou, too, Christinas rose, that chides the Spring, Sweet, loitering Spring!) and bids it haste to bloom, THE FLOWERS OF SPRING. 67 Ah, well I love thy early flowers that bring My chilled thoughts back from Winter's joyless gloom, Oft springing ere the coming year's begun, As if to celebrate its natal day ; When every heart, by social kindness won, Beats with young rapture, and flings care away. Although the tulip breathes no sweet perfume, Nor aught but for display its cup is dear, For its mere splendour grudge it not the room O'er which its hosts in gorgeous garb uprear. And still more varied than the tulip race Eanunculuses burst in glory forth : Blue periwinkles, too, the borders grace, All humbly trailing o'er the humid earth. Gay as the bow from which its name is ta'en, The iris spreads its beauties to the morn ; Pinks sweet-smelling reign Dearest of flowers in Spring's ascendant born. And what a mass of congregated hues Sweet-william offers to the attracted gaze ! The light, the dark, and purple tints profuse Mingle together in one dazzling blaze. While by the stream the pale narcissus still Eepeats the fabled story of its birth ; 6$ THE FLOWERS OF SPRING. The yellow jonquil and the daffodil On neighbouring grounds their kindred blooms put forth. And high above less proud aspiring flowers, From the green sheaths which yet its stem embrace, The princely lily like an angel towers, Matchless at once for purity and grace. Nor less the beauteous sweetpea charms the eye, Though stranger to the poet's living page ; Possessed of all the charms which beautify Earth's green expanse, man's glorious heritage. Late in the Spring its blossoms court the light, Almost the last fair effort of her skill ; As beauty, ere the young soul takes its flight To other spheres, beams forth more lovely still. Conscious of weakness, forth its tendrils spring, And woo the aid of some outstretching twig, With every art which beauty's power can bring To coax within its clasp the admiring sprig. With silent eloquence it plays its part ; Averts its face and blushes, while profuse [ts lnsciona charms, displayed with guileless art, Sweeten the bondage of the nuptial noose. Eow fond the embrace! how tightly clasped in love Its little arms around its helpmate wind THE FLOWERS OF SPRING. 6g I n thousand mazy coils ! while, thickly wove, The umbrageous leaves o'er every branch are twined. No faithless wishes cloud its fairy form, But, true to wedded love, it constant lives, Unchangeable through sunshine and through storm, Till cruel death the cherished life-knot rives : And as its beauties vanish in decay, Nor longer thrill the eye, nor fragrance shed, But parched and dry, clothed in funereal grey, Help but to swell the number of the dead — 'Tis then that first its partner fully knows The value of the friend it has but lost ; When solitary on this world it grows, By torrents lashed and sweeping whirlwinds tossed. Sweet as the lip of woman when she loves, Lush gillyflower its nectarous perfumes Exudes, the bee enticing as it roves, Safe to carouse upon its clustered blooms. The hardy wallflower asks no watchful care, But like the ivy, type of friendship true, Even on a sterile soil will flourish fair Where never other child of Flora grew. The pensive lupine and the Adonis sad Please when the soul's in melancholy vein ; ;o THE FLOWERS OF SPRING. While the gay larkspur, in goodnature clad, Changes our grief to life and joy again. Expand thy vase of deep cerulean hue, Thou elegant convolvulus ; and thou, The lesser bindweed, on the trellis too Thy blossoms hang, and fondling runners throw. Like stars reilected in the deep green sea, The fragrant jasmine's milky treasures stud The ruined wall ; and woodbine gracefully O'er porch or bower outspreads its taloned bud. And not less sweet, the humble privet-hedge Circles the garden with its simple flowers Of purest white ; to birds the welcome pledge Of future berries for the wintry hours. Beneath the myrtle's branches Love is found ; The briar's leaf to Poetry 's allied ; Taste seeks a home where fuchsias hang around Their thousand buds in brightest scarlet dyed. Here is a bed of pink-eyed saxifrage, A little forest of most slender stalks And mimic blooms : sweet-scented tussilage, Too, sheds its odours o'er the sheltered walks ; And thousand violets and pansies ope Their velvet bosoms to the sun's embrace. THE E LOWE IIS OE SPRING. yi The richly perfumed mignonette gives hope Of greater promise than mere outward grace ; Thus sterling worth the beauty oft forsakes To plant its throne within the plain one's heart : How favoured she who of each grace partakes, And can to soul and sense a charm impart ! The deep carnation or the soft moss-rose Crowns the gay nosegay in the maiden's hand, As to the village church she weekly goes To swell the anthem of the simple band. Blessed be thy course, thou peaceful Sabbath morn, Whose orient smiles illume the misty glade ; Whose golden floods the distant hills adorn ; Whose dew bespangles every little blade. Profusely spread along the dreaming sky, Thy brilliant radiance woos each fleecy cloud ; Sheds o'er the ocean's breast a ruby dye, And wraps the city in a purple shroud. Thy scented breath in gentle gusts steals o'er The verdant meadow and its browsing band, The yellow field, the speckled mountain hoar, To gladden hope and fill the expectant hand TUB FLOWERS OF SPRING. The world, released from labour and from care, Through all its regions hails the welcome rest ; The grateful heart pours out its thanks in prayer, And feels awhile the gladness of the blessed. When Venus from the bosom of the deep Eose, smiling as the curling waves were riven, A new light shone o'er valley and o'er steep, And sombre earth assumed the look of heaven. 'Twas then that first the beauteous rose was born, In simple garb of youthful lily dressed ; Till ocean's daughter saw the flower forlorn, And to her lips its stainless beauties pressed. The glowing lip, exuberantly red, Left its fond impress on the enraptured bud, And straight o'er all its burning cheek dispread T]j