Bright-eyed goddess,—witching spring,—as thy amber tresses glow,
Kindled to immortal flame
Is the breath of honor,—fame.
Well may poets hymn thy praise,—fancy flutter to and fro,—
To a measure full and fleet, to a measure stately, slow;
Thence with heaven for an aim,
Rushing on with glad acclaim:
Hearken to the strain and know, blessed Beulah here below,
Wake! The living notes prolong in a symphony of song,
Floating on the perfumed air
In the angel arms of prayer;
Welcome goddess, spring divine; beauty visions ’round thee twine;
Violets and blossoms sweet
Nestle fondly at thy feet.