XCIX

There shines a leaf on every slender spray,
The spring has found the violets in their nooks,
There hides no corner that her sunny looks
Have not enlivened in her green array.
And I am tempted by the golden day
To quit the circle of my dusty books,
And seek the wisdom which the trees and brooks
Give to the souls that question such as they.
The joy of life--the joy that makes the child
Leap, unprovoked, upon the nurse's arm
Holds the world's round within its subtle charm;
And I could laugh, with boyhood's spirits wild;
Recredit hope, and be again beguiled;
Did not my heart toll on its old alarm.