Spring – A Node

How sweetly on the balmy air
     Steals in the mellow breath of spring!
The breeze is full of — I declare!
     Heap on the coal here! doesn't it sting!

I hear the robin's cheery song;
     The Phebe calls th' awakening flowers, 
And fast they flock, — Ugh! how this strong
     North-easter rattles at the doors!
The dewy-hearted Violet
     Sweetly to Hyacinthus tells
Her love in odorous — Well, you bet!
     By dose ruds so it dever sbells!

All blooms the new-born year renews, 
     And warms to life the very stones;
The sky's blue deepens, — Faith, the blues
     Have struck me to my marrow bones!

Pure incense of the earth once more,
     Warm effluence of the clods that yearn
To perfect greenness, — Shut that door!
What ails the fire? Will't never burn!

Hail, hopeful Advent! Prophet, hail! 
     Hail, happy hour when green hills laugh!
All flowers that blow, — There, what a gale!
     There's too much blow and hail by half!

Dear Spring! the tenderest child of Time,
     Thou whole delight of soul and eye,
Stay! - Hang the mittens! if I must rhyme, 
     O Spring, I'll wait till next July!