Classic Poem

Rise, blossom of the spring,
The dews of morn
Still linger on the barren thorn;
Arise, and sing!

O! join my rapt'rous song!
And o'er the wild bleak hills
And unfledg'd fields along
Pursue the trickling rills:
O, rise!
Cloath'd with that modest grace
That veils the glowing beauties of thy face,
And downward points the radiance of thine eyes.
I wait thee on the thawing mountains,
Where spring dissolves the lingering fountains;
O! trace with me the opening flowers;
Brave the sharp breeze, damp dews, and vernal showers.
Wild various Nature strews her charms,
And storms surround her mildest calms;
O! to her frowns let us superior be,
Taste each delight, and hail the coming spring,
Singing the heavenly song of liberty!