The world is quivering into life; each bough
Throws up a thousand buds of lively green;
The clouds have melted into smiles--and now
Summer, beside her sister Spring, is seen
Twining a rosy chaplet round her brow.
Creation laughs--and seems again to feel
The warm embraces of the dancing hours;
Along the silent hills the infant flowers
Drink in the wandering sunny rays, that steal
In sleepy glory o'er the budding bowers.
As thus I stand upon the uplands' brink,
'Mid birds, and floods, and woods--fair Nature's din--
My heart seems breathing--oh! my soul could drink
The ripe rich luxury of Nature in.
