'Mid bright smiles of infants bred. Each a lily of his own

Offering, or a rose half-blown.

Bring me now a crown as gay,
Wreathed and woven yesterday.

Where are now those forms so fair?
Withered, drooping, wan, and bare,
Feeling nought of earth or sky,
Shower or dew, behold they lie,
Vernal airs no more to know:
They are gone-and ye must go,
Go where all that ever bloomed,
In its hour must lie entombed.
They are gone; their light is o'er :
Ye must go; but ye once more
Hope, in joy, to be new-born,
Lovelier than May's gleaming morn.

Hearken, children of the May,
Now in your glad hour and gay.
Ye whom all good angels greet

With their treasures blithe and sweet :
None of all the wreaths ye prize

But was nursed by weeping skies.

Keen March winds, soft April showers,
Braced the roots, embalmed the flowers.
So, if e'er that second Spring

Her green robe o'er you shall fling,
Stern self-mastery, tearful prayer,

Must the way of bliss prepare,

How should else earth's flowerets prove

Meet for those pure crowns above?

THE CUCKOO.

THE CUCKOO.

HAIL, beauteous stranger of the grove!
Thou messenger of Spring!
Now Heaven repairs thy rural seat,
And woods thy welcome sing.

What time the daisy decks the green,
Thy certain voice we hear :
Hast thou a star to guide thy path
Or mark the rolling year?

The schoolboy, wandering through the wood

To pull the primrose gay,

Starts, the new voice of Spring to hear,

And imitates thy lay.

What time the pea puts on the bloom,

Thou fliest thy vocal vale, An annual guest in other lands, Another Spring to hail.

Sweet bird! thy bower is ever green,

Thy sky is ever clear;

Thou hast no sorrow in thy song,
No winter in thy year!

O could I fly, I'd fly with thee !
We'd make, with joyful wing,
Our annual visit o'er the globe,

Companions of the Spring.

89

N

AN EVENING IN MAY.

PISCATOR. And now, scholar, my direction for fly-fishing is ended with this shower, for it has done raining. And now look about you, and see how pleasantly that meadow looks; nay, and the earth smells as sweetly too. Come, let me tell you what holy Mr. Herbert says of such days and flowers as these; and then we will thank God that we enjoy them, and walk to the river and sit down quietly, and try to catch the other brace of trouts.

VENATOR.

I thank you, good master, for your good direction for fly-fishing, and for the sweet enjoyment of the pleasant day, which is so far spent without offence to God or man.

So when I would beget content, and increase confidence in the power and wisdom and providence of Almighty God, I will walk the

AN EVENING IN MAY.

91

meadows by some gliding stream, and there contemplate the lilies that take no care, and those very many other various little living, creatures that are not only created, but fed, man knows not how, by the goodness of the God of Nature, and therefore trust in Him. This is my purpose; and so, "Let everything that hath breath praise the Lord:" and let the blessing of St. Peter's Master be with mine.

PISCATOR. And upon all that are lovers of virtue, and dare trust in His providence, and be quiet, and go a angling.

SPRING, AND ITS MORAL ANALOGIES.

How welcome are the early signs, and precursory appearances of the Spring! the earlier dawn of day; a certain cheerful cast in the light, even though still shining over an expanse of desolation,—it has the appearance of a smile; a softer breathing of the air, at intervals; the bursting of the buds; the vivacity of the animal tribes; the first flowers of the season; and by degrees a delicate, dubious tint of green. It needs not that a man should be a poet, or a sentimental worshipper of Nature, to be delighted with all this.

May we suggest one analogy to this? The operation of the Divine Spirit in renovating the human soul, effecting its conversion from the natural state, is sometimes displayed in this gentle and gradual manner, especially in youth. In many cases, certainly, it seems violent and sudden (resembling the transition from Winter to Spring in the northern climates); but, in the more gradual instances, whether in youth or further on in life, it is most gratifying to perceive the first indications— serious thoughts and emotions, growing sensibility of conscience, distaste for vanity and folly, deep solicitude for the welfare of the soul, a disposition to exercises of piety, a progressively clearer, more grateful, and more believing apprehension of the necessity and sufficiency of the work and sacrifice of Christ for human redemption. To a pious friend, or parent, this is more delightful than if he could have a vision of Eden, as it bloomed on the first day that Adam beheld it.

But we may carry the analogy into a wider application. It is most gratifying to perceive the signs of change on the great field of society. How like the early flowers, the more benignant light, the incipient verdure, are the new desire of knowledge, and the schemes and efforts to impart it; the rising, zealous, and rapidly enlarging activity to promote true religion. In this moral Spring we hope we are advanced a little way beyond the season of the earliest flowers.