FRAGMENT: WRITTEN ON THE FIRST COMING OF SPRING.

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BY PARK BENJAMIN.

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At length has come the Spring! welcome to me

Art thou, oh! wind, that journeyest to the sea!—

The south-west wind, whose warm, health-bringing plume,

Wafts odor from a wilderness of bloom;

From groves that bend with blossoms, from broad plains

Clothed in rich garments of a thousand stains—

Blue, crimson, gold, green, azure, purple flowers,

Given in profusion by the beauteous showers.

I have heard stories of thy place of birth,—

Oh! wind, that sheddest beauty on the earth!—

Which make me sad, to think my life must glide

Slowly and coldly by the Atlantic’s side.

Thine are the “happy valleys” of our land,

Shut in by mountains, and the South-sea strand;

They never feel the tyranny of frost;

Nor hail, nor snow is on their green laps tost;

For nursed by thee successive verdures spring,

And melts the sceptre of the Winter-king!