Spring

And now we'll proceed for to usher in spring. For 'iwill never be noticed if poets don't sing : And the frops wonldu't croak and the woods wouldn't ring With ïnusic of nature, and never a thing Would show that old winter no louger was klng. So, as a raminder. my ink I will sling, And sornetlüng wil! " iiust " if a sonnet on spring My muse shall refuse; and the charges I'll ring In 'bout the sweet brookf and the rocks on the win};: And the breeze and the trees and the bees, with their sling; And the cows, as they brouse, with the sweet ting-a-llng Of tlieir bells, as it swells, and the eloudlets that fling Their shadoWS o'er meadows, where servaut iiüüds wring The clothes at the brook, while the south breezes bring Sweet odors to bleud with their soft murinurIng : And more of snch (ore I could readily strlng Into rhyme.if I'd time to hunt up endiugs in " ing," But as I nave not this " pome " I will briug To a close, for methinketh I hear the soft " ding" Of the chestnut bell " calling down " rhymes on SDrintr.