What things of beauty have begun

To bloom in modest form; Smiling a welcome to the sunA farewell to the storm!

Hail! types of light and love divine, Poor desert hearts that cheer, Dissolving doubt with shower and shine; While flowers of peace appear.

Hail! emblem of the happy days,
When hope is full in bloom;
And faith is found in paths of praise,
Not fearing future gloom.

Hail! types of grace and glory fair,— Free for the rich and poor;

That up to bliss the spirit bear,

Where night is known no more.

Hail! spirit of the Spring-all hail!
Unfolder of the flowers!

Telling a true triumphal tale,

To merry-hearted hours.

THE FAIR YOUNG SPRING.

WHEN the daisies in the meadows

Silver cheerfully the grass;

And the solitary shadows

Over pleasant places pass;

When the birds to brake and dell come;
When their wild notes ring;
They are giving then a welcome
To the fair young Spring.

When the angel of affection
Hovers in the sunny air,

Like a spirit of protection

To the beautiful and fair;
When the South is sweetly breathing,

And the hours joy bring,

They are then a garland wreathing

For the fair young Spring.

When the merry lark is springing

Up the skyscape fair,

And a song of love is singing,

For a loved one, there;

When the throstle in the thicket,

And the blackbird, sing;
Then, smiling through the wicket

Of the year, comes Spring.

HAYTIME.

HERE 's to the little birds! Where come they

from ?

Whither in winter go? There is the robin;
He is no traveller, but stays at home.

He hideth in the storm; but, true and trustful,
Abideth just about us, near the homestead,
Even in winter; and we never shoot him.
He is a bird of faith, and faith is sacred.

He sings "I am your bird, and you will help me
When the cold weather comes; but now, this hay-

time,

My nest is at a distance in the hedgerow.
Among the honeysuckles and the bracken,
In a neat spot, unseen, and safe, and pleasant."
Well, peace be with thee, robin.

It is he

Who in piano words and timid warble, In quiet trustfulness, first tells of dawn That leadeth daylight up the hills of morning. The song is sung before he looks for breakfast; Right sweetly is it warbled. Thus it runs, As from a well with music running over"The sunshine cometh! list! the sunshine cometh!" Simple the notes, but then how grandly simple; As God in nature gives a music lesson,

The skylark listening in the mowing-grass,

Findeth his feet, looks up, and in a moment

Anoints his breast with dew; then, like an arrow,
Shoots up into the sky to hail the dayspring

With no faint hallelujah!

From the grove,

The wood of ages, and the young plantation,
The orchard trees behind the farmer's homestead,
The lonely sycamore beside the cottage,—

Whence, like a shaft of cloud, the smoke ascendeth
Straight up into the changing grey of morning,—
From the awaking meadows and their hedges,
From vale and hill, and everywhere about us,
Vibrates the offering of the calm young morning,
In joy and singing, fresh and full of gladness.
'Tis a wild chorus, but as sweet as wild.

Wrong not the birds, for whosoever wrongs them,
Injures himself. Hark! There's another song--

SONG OF HAY-MAKING.

CLOUDY but fair, cloudy but fine,

Cloudy the dawn of the day;

Cloudy to temper with shadow the shine,

Fair for the making of hay.

Early afield is the morn,

Earlier yet are the mowers;

Light is too late to adorn

Many of yesterday's flowers.

Beautiful things! from their altar of death,

Incense perfumeth the day!

Come, we are wanted for tedding the swath, Come as if coming to play!

Fret not for care,

Morning is fair

Fair for the making of hay.

Windy but fair, windy but fine,

Windy the course of the day;
Windy to temper the stress of the shine-
Right for the making of hay.

Ted well the grass o'er the ground:
Fear not for cloud or for rain;
While sun and wind play around,
Turn it, and ted it again.

Night when it cometh will come with a song,
Cheerfully closing the day;

Death, when it cometh, to joy will belong,

If we be wise on our way.

Fret not for care,

Morning is fair—

Fair for the making of hay.