The Northern Spring

WHEN the soft breath of Spring goes forth Far o'er the mountains of the North, How soon those wastes of dazzling snow With life, and bloom, and beauty glow. Then bursts the verdure of the plains, Then break the streams from icy chains; And the glad rein-deer seeks no more Amidst deep snows his mossy store. Then the dark pine-wood's boughs are seen Arrayed in tints of living green; And roses, in their brightest dyes, By Lapland's founts and streams arise. Thus, in a moment, from the gloom And the cold fetters of the tomb, Thus shall the blest Redeemer's voice Call forth his servants to rejoice. For He, whose word is truth, hath said, His power to life shall wake the dead, And summon those he loves, on high, To 'put on immortality!' Then, all its transient sufferings o'er, On wings of light, the soul shall soar, Exulting, to that blest abode, Where tears of sorrow never flowed.