On its wing

Floats the Spring,

With glowing eye, and golden hair: Dark before her Angel-form

She drives the Demon of the storm, Like gladness chasing Care.

Winter's gloomy night withdrawn,
Lo! the young romantic Hours
Search the hill, the dale, the lawn,

To behold the SNOW-DROP white
Start to light,

And shine in FLORA's desart bowers,

Beneath the vernal dawn,

The Morning Star of Flowers!

O welcome to our isle,

Thou Messenger of Peace!

At whose bewitching smile

The embattled tempests cease:

Emblem of Innocence and Truth!

Firstborn of Nature's womb,

When strong in renovated youth,
She bursts from Winter's tomb ;
Thy parent's eye hath shed

A precious dew-drop on thine head,

Frail as a mother's tear

Upon her infant's face,

When ardent hope to tender fear,
And anxious love, gives place.
But lo! the dew-drop flits away,

The sun salutes thee with a ray

Warm as a mother's kiss

Upon her infant's cheek,

When the heart bounds with bliss,

And joy that cannot speak!

When I meet thee by the way,

Like a pretty, sportive child,

On the winter-wasted wild,

With thy darling breeze at play,
Opening to the radiant sky

All the sweetness of thine eye;

-Or bright with sunbeams, fresh with showers,

O thou Fairy-Queen of flowers!

Watch thee o'er the plain advance

At the head of FLORA's dance;

Simple SNOW-DROP! then in thee

All thy sister-train I see :

Every brilliant bud that blows,

From the blue-bell to the rose:

All the beauties that appear

On the bosom of the Year,

All that wreathe the locks of Spring,
Summer's ardent breath perfume,

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Or on the lap of Autumn bloom,
-All to thee their tribute bring,

Exhale their incense at thy shrine,
-Their hues, their odours, all are thine!
For while thy humble form I view,

The Muse's keen prophetic sight

Brings fair futurity to light,

And fancy's magic makes the vision true.

-There is a Winter in my soul,

The winter of despair;

O when shall Spring its rage controul?

When shall the SNOW-DROP blossom there?

Cold gleams of comfort sometimes dart

A dawn of glory on my heart,

But quickly pass away :

Thus Northern-lights the gloom adorn,

And give the promise of a morn

That never turns to day!

-But hark! methinks I hear

A small still whisper in mine ear;

"Rash youth, repent!

"Afflictions, from above,

"Are angels sent

"On embassies of love.

"A fiery legion at thy birth,

"Of chastening woes were given,

"To pluck the flowers of hope from earth,

"And plant them high

"O'er yonder sky,

"Transform'd to stars,-and fix'd in heaven.”