THE VOICE OF SPRING
I come, I come! ye have called me long; I come o"er the mountains, with light and song.
Ye may trace my step o"er the waking earth By the winds which tell of the violet"s birth, By the primrose stars in the shadowy gra.s.s, By the green leaves opening as I pa.s.s.
I have breathed on the South, and the chestnut-flowers By thousands have burst from the forest bowers, And the ancient graves and the fallen fanes Are veiled with wreathes on Italian plains; But it is not for me, in my hour of bloom, To speak of the ruin or the tomb!
I have looked o"er the hills of the stormy North, And the larch has hung all his ta.s.sels forth; The fisher is out on the sunny sea, And the reindeer bounds o"er the pastures free, And the pine has a fringe of softer green, And the moss looks bright, where my step has been.
I have sent through the wood-paths a glowing sigh, And called out each voice of the deep blue sky, From the night-bird"s lay through the starry time, In the groves of the soft Hesperian clime, To the swan"s wild note by the Iceland lakes, When the dark fir-branch into verdure breaks.
From the streams and founts I have loosed the chain; They are sweeping on to the silvery main.
They are flashing down from the mountain brows, They are flinging spray o"er the forest boughs, They are bursting fresh from their sparry caves, And the earth resounds with the joy of waves.
FELICIA DOROTHEA HEMANS
THE HISTORY LESSON
There was a monkey climbed up a tree, When he fell down, then down fell he.
There was a crow sat on a stone, When he was gone, then there was none.
There was an old wife did eat an apple, When she had eat two, she had eat a couple.
There was a horse going to the mill, When he went on, he stood not still.
There was a butcher cut his thumb, When it did bleed, then blood did come.
There was a lackey ran a race, When he ran fast, he ran apace.
There was a cobbler clouting shoon, When they were mended, they were done.
There was a chandler making candle, When he them strip, he did them handle.
There was a navy went into Spain, When it returned, it came again.
ANONYMOUS
SONG OF LIFE
A traveller on a dusty road Strewed acorns on the lea; And one took root and sprouted up, And grew into a tree.
Love sought its shade at evening-time, To breathe its early vows; And Age was pleased, in heights of noon, To bask beneath its boughs.
The dormouse loved its dangling twigs, The birds sweet music bore-- It stood a glory in its place, A blessing evermore.
A little spring had lost its way Amid the gra.s.s and fern; A pa.s.sing stranger scooped a well Where weary men might turn, He walled it in, and hung with care A ladle on the brink; He thought not of the deed he did, But judged that Toil might drink.
He pa.s.sed again; and lo! the well, By summer never dried, Had cooled ten thousand parched tongues, And saved a life beside.
A nameless man, amid the crowd That thronged the daily mart, Let fall a word of hope and love, Unstudied from the heart, A whisper on the tumult thrown, A transitory breath, It raised a brother from the dust, It saved a soul from death.
O germ! O fount! O word of love!
O thought at random cast!
Ye were but little at the first, But mighty at the last.
CHARLES MACKAY
THE GOOD TIME COMING
There"s a good time coming, boys.
A good time coming: We may not live to see the day, But earth shall glisten in the ray Of the good time coming.
Cannon-b.a.l.l.s may aid the truth, But thought"s a weapon stronger; We"ll win our battle by its aid;-- Wait a little longer.
There"s a good time coming, boys, A good time coming: The pen shall supersede the sword, And Right, not Might, shall be the lord In the good time coming.
Worth, not Birth, shall rule mankind, And be acknowledged stronger; The proper impulse has been given;-- Wait a little longer.
There"s a good time coming, boys A good time coming: War in all men"s eyes shall be A monster of iniquity In the good time coming.
Nations shall not quarrel then, To prove which is the stronger; Nor slaughter men for glory"s sake;-- Wait a little longer.
There"s a good time coming, boys, A good time coming: Hateful rivalries of creed Shall not make their martyrs bleed In the good time coming.
Religion shall be shorn of pride, And flourish all the stronger; And Charity shall trim her lamp;-- Wait a little longer.
There"s a good time coming, boys, A good time coming: And a poor man"s family Shall not be his misery In the good time coming.
Every child shall be a help To make his right arm stronger; The happier he, the more he has:-- Wait a little longer.
There"s a good time coming, boys, A good time coming: Little children shall not toil Under, or above, the soil In the good time coming; But shall play in healthful fields, Till limbs and mind grow stronger; And every one shall read and write;-- Wait a little longer.
There"s a good time coming, boys, A good time coming: The people shall be temperate, And shall love instead of hate, In the good time coming.
They shall use, and not abuse, And make all virtue stronger; The reformation has begun;-- Wait a little longer.
There"s a good time coming, boys, A good time coming: Let us aid it all we can, Every woman, every man, The good time coming: Smallest helps, if rightly given, Make the impulse stronger; "T will be strong enough one day;-- Wait a little longer.