THIRTY-FIRST OF MAY

AWAKE!

the crimson dawn is glowing, And blissful breath of Morn From golden seas is earthward flowing Thro' mountain-peaks forlorn ; 'Twixt the tall roses, and the jasmines near, That darkly hover in the twilight air, I see the glory streaming, and I hear

The sweet wind whispering like a messenger.

'Tis time to sing! the Spirits of Spring Go softly by mine ear, And out of Fairyland they bring

Glad tidings to me here ; 'Tis time to sing! now is the pride of Youth

Pluming the woods, and the first rose appears,

And Summer from the chambers of the

South

Is coming up to wipe away all tears.

They bring glad tidings from afar
Of Her that cometh after
To fill the earth, to light the air,

With music and with laughter ;

Ev'n now she leaneth forward, as she stands, And her fire-wing'd horses, shod with gold,

Stream, like a sunrise, from before her

hands,

And thro' the Eastern gates her wheels are roll'd.

Arise young Queen of forests green,
A path was strewn for thee
With hyacinth, and gold bells atween,
And red anemone ;

Arise young Queen of beauty and delight,
Lift up in this fair land thine happy eyes;
The valleys yearn, and gardens for thy
sight,

But chief this heart that prays for thee
with sighs.

How oft into the opening blue
I look'd up wistfully,

In hope to see thee wafted thro'
Bright rifts of stormy sky;

Many gray morns, sad nights, and weary days,

Without thy golden smile my heart was dying ;

Oh! in the valleys let me see thy face, And thy loose locks adown the woodwalks flying.

Come, with thy flowers, and silver showers,
Thy rainbows, and thy light;
Fold in thy robe the naked Hours,

And fill them with thy might;
Though less I seek thee for the loveliness
Thou laughest from thee over land and

sea,

Than for the hues wherein gay Fancies dress

My drooping spirit at the sight of thee.

Come, with thy voice of thousand joys,
Thy leaves, and fluttering wings;
Come with thy breezes, and the noise
Of rivulets and of springs;

Though less I seek thee for thine harmonies

Of winds and waters, and thy songs divine,

Than for that Angel that within me lies, And makes glad music echoing unto thine.

O Gardens blossoming anew!
O Rivers, and fresh Rills!

O Mountains in your mantles blue!
O dales of daffodils!

What ye can do no mortal spirit can,

Ye have a strength within we cannot

borrow,

Blessed are ye beyond the heart of Man, Your Joy, your Love, your Life beyond all Sorrow!