| |
| SPRING is but another birth, | |
| From the grave of earlier springs, | |
| Which to renovated earth | |
| Other resurrection brings. | |
| |
| God hath moulded all that God’s | 5 |
| Power could mould, from mortal dust; | |
| Flowers and fruits, from clouds and clods, | |
| Life from ruin and from rust. | |
| |
| ’Twas a wondrous hand that laid | |
| In the seed the unborn tree; | 10 |
| Bud and blossom in the blade, | |
| Future ripened fruit to be. | |
| |
| Still more wondrous was the might | |
| That, from night’s obscurest shrine, | |
| Brought forth intellectual light, | 15 |
| Souls with thoughts and hopes divine. | |
| |
| Yes! ’twas a transcendent power | |
| Which, for earth’s contracted whole, | |
| Gave to heaven a worthy dower, | |
| Gave an ever-living soul. | 20 |
| |
| Less than earth to heaven, and less | |
| Than to ages moments seem, | |
| Is the world we now possess, | |
| To the world of which we dream. | |
| |
| Earthly love is faint and small, | 25 |
| When compared with the embrace | |
| Of a love encircling all, | |
| Through all time and o’er all space. | |
| |
