I come, I come! ye have called me long; <br />I come o'er the mountains, with light and song. <br />Ye may trace my step o'er the waking earth <br />By the winds which tell of the violet's birth, <br />By the primrose stars in the shadowy grass, <br />By the green leaves opening as I pass. <br /> <br />I have breathed on the South, and the chestnut-flowers <br />By thousands have burst from the forest bowers, <br />And the ancient graves and the fallen fanes <br />Are veiled with wreaths on Italian plains; <br />But it is not for me, in my hour of bloom, <br />To speak of the ruin or the tomb! <br /> <br />I have looked o'er the hills of the stormy North, <br />And the larch has hung all his tassels forth; <br />The fisher is out on the sunny sea, <br />And the reindeer bounds o'er the pastures free, <br />And the pine has a fringe of softer green, <br />And the moss looks bright, where my step has been. <br /> <br />I have sent through the wood-paths a glowing sigh, <br />And called out each voice of the deep blue sky, <br />From the night-bird's lay through the starry time, <br />In the groves of the soft Hesperian clime, <br />To the swan's wild note by the Iceland lakes, <br />When the dark fir-branch into verdure breaks. <br /> <br />From the streams and founts I have loosed the chain; <br />They are sweeping on to the silvery main, <br />They are flashing down from the mountain brows, <br />They are flinging spray o'er the forest boughs, <br />They are bursting fresh from their sparry caves, <br />And the earth resounds with the joy of waves.<br /><br />Felicia Dorothea Hemans<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-voice-of-spring/
