• The crocuses in the Square
      Lend a winsome touch to the May;
      The clouds are vanished away,
    The weather is bland and fair;
    Now peace seems everywhere.
      Hark to the raucous, sullen cries:
      “Extra! extra!”—tersely flies
      The news, and a great hope mounts, or dies.

    About the bulletin-boards
      Dark knots of people surge...