Page:The Atlantic Monthly Volume 2.djvu/119

1858.] When wake the violets, Winter dies;
 * When sprout the elm-buds, Spring is near;

When lilacs blossom, Summer cries,
 * "Bud, little roses! Spring is here!"]

The windows blush with fresh bouquets,
 * Cut with the May-dew on their lips;

The radish all its bloom displays,
 * Pink; as Aurora's finger-tips.

Nor less the flood of light that showers
 * On beauty's changed corolla-shades,—

The walks are gay as bridal bowers
 * With rows of many-petalled maids.

The scarlet shell-fish click and clash
 * In the blue barrow where they slide;

The horseman, proud of streak and splash,
 * Creeps homeward from his morning ride.

Here comes the dealer's awkward string,
 * With neck in rope and tail in knot,—

Rough colts, with careless country-swing,
 * In lazy walk or slouching trot.

Wild filly from the mountain-side,
 * Doomed to the close and chafing thills,

Lend me thy long, untiring stride
 * To seek with thee thy western hills!

I hear the whispering voice of Spring,
 * The thrush's trill, the cat-bird's cry,

Like some poor bird with prisoned wing
 * That sits and sings, but longs to fly.

Oh for one spot of living green,—
 * One little spot where leaves can grow,—

To love unblamed, to walk unseen,
 * To dream above, to sleep below!

was joy in the national palace on the eve of May-day. The heart of the Chief of Thirty Millions was full of gladness. It was a high holiday at the capital of the nation. Jubilant processions crowded the streets. The boom of cannon told to the heavens that some great event, full of glory and of blessing, was just happily born into the history of the world. Strains of triumphant music at once expressed and stirred afresh the rapture which the new fruition of a deferred and doubting hope had kindled in myriad breasts. Rejoicing multitudes swarmed before the palace gate, and with congratulatory shouts compelled the presence of the Nation's Head. He stood before them proud and happy, and answered to the transports of their joy with a responsive sympathy. He rejoiced in the prospect of the peace and prosperity with which the occasion of this jubilee was to cheer and bless the land in all its borders. His chosen friends and counsellors surrounded him and echoed his prophecies of good. A kindred homage was next paid to the virtuous artificers of the new-wrought blessing, without whose shaping hands it would have perished before the sight, or taken some dreadful form of mischief and of horror. Their words of cheer and exultation, too, swelled the surging tide of patriotic emotion till it overflowed again. Thus with the thunder of artillery, with the animating sound of drum and trumpet, with the more persuasive music of impassioned words, with shoutings and with revelry, these jocund compeers, from the highest to the lowest, mingled into one by the alchemy of a common joy, chased the hours of that memorable night and gave strange welcome to the morn of May.

What great happiness had just befallen, which should thus transport with joy the chief magistrate of a mighty nation, and send an answering pulse of rapture through all the veins of his capital? The armies of the Republic had surely just returned in triumph from some dubious battle joined with a barbarian invader who threatened to trample all her cherished rights, and the institutions which are their safeguard, under his iron heel. Perhaps the Angel of Mercy had at length set again the seals upon some