Spring came with tiny lances thrusting,
And earth was clad in peeping green;
In russet bark, the twigs incrusting,
Tenderest blossom-points were seen;
A robin courier proclaimed good cheer:
Summer will soon arrive, for I am here.
And now from...
Fit theme for song, the sylvan maid
Who, if she knew not fauns or satyrs,
Had conjured oft in mossy shade
Visions of savage pale-face haters;
I trow she dined on pork and maize
In cabin, single-roomed and sooted,
Quite innocent of frills and...
