Oh! the world looks glad, for the spring has smiled,

And the birds are come with their “wood-notes wild,”

And the waters leap with a joyous sound,

Like freedom’s voice when a chain’s unbound.

And soon with its bloom will the earth be gay,

For the air is bland as the breath of May;

Sunshine and buds and all glorious things

Will give to the hours their downiest wings.

Nature has burst from her wintry tomb,

Wreathed with the glory of brightening bloom;

Fetters of frost-work are gently unbound,

Blossoms and flowers are clustering round.

Bosoms that know not the blighting of care,

Sunshine and gladness may smilingly wear;

But for the broken and desolate heart

Springtime, alas! has no balm to impart.

Tones that are hushed it awakens no more;

“Friends that are gone” it can never restore;

Yet e’en to the mourner one hope it may bring,

’Tis the type of Eternity’s glorious spring.