EN the soft breath of Spring goes
Far o'er the mountains of the North,
How soon those wastes of dazzling
With life, and bloom, and beauty glow.
Then bursts the verdure of the plains,
Then break the streams from icy chains;
And the glad rein-deer seeks no
Amidst deep snows his mossy store.
Then the dark pine-wood's boughs are
Arrayed in tints of living green;
And roses, in their brightest dyes,
By Lapland's founts and streams arise.
Thus, in a moment, from the
And the cold fetters of the tomb,
Thus shall the blest Redeemer's
Call forth his servants to rejoice.
For He, whose word is truth, hath said,
His power to life shall wake the dead,
And summon those he loves, on high,
To "put on immortality!" Then, all its transient sufferings o'er,
On wings of light, the soul shall soar,
Exulting, to that blest abode,
Where tears of sorrow never flowed.
