. The New England farmer . or-stone springiug,A Uttlg rose la the liUtice clinging, Or oer the door;Are ever -whispering some graceful tViingAs the foot ou the tbreshold is wanderingCarelessly oer. £. Barnard Thorp. y-os thi-s pleas-ant motit-h ofMay, how ma-ny fine and im-pressive poemshave been writ-ten. Xo othermoiith stirs upwithin us suchfeelings of joyas this. Notbecause, as avrhole, it exceeds all the others, but becauseit has some days reminding us of the joyousrealizations of -which Milton and Thomson,and other of the gyand poets have so siveetlysung, or of the Elysian
. The New England farmer . or-stone springiug,A Uttlg rose la the liUtice clinging, Or oer the door;Are ever -whispering some graceful tViingAs the foot ou the tbreshold is wanderingCarelessly oer. £. Barnard Thorp. y-os thi-s pleas-ant motit-h ofMay, how ma-ny fine and im-pressive poemshave been writ-ten. Xo othermoiith stirs upwithin us suchfeelings of joyas this. Notbecause, as avrhole, it exceeds all the others, but becauseit has some days reminding us of the joyousrealizations of -which Milton and Thomson,and other of the gyand poets have so siveetlysung, or of the Elysian fields which nestleunder the mountains on the northern shores ofthe Mediterranean sea, where the invalidbreathes soft and dry airs, while listening tothe ever restless and surging waters. Thosebright days call up the descriptions bytravel-lers of the charming Mentonian amphitheatreat the head of the gulf of Genoa, where invalidsand travellers are glad to rest under the lemonand olive-clad hills of the lonelvtown, Such days are transient, it is true, but theyimpress every feeling heart -with an undcfinablcsense of Joy which no lapse of time can eradi-cate. Like the life of a good man, the monthof Ma^ is not all sunshine and sparkling withgems, but has it<s clouds and storms and nip-ping frosts i and it is altogether more beautifulfrom the very which these chaiH^esafford. A charming and instructive English writer,in speaking of the seasons, says, Spring iswith us once more, pacing the earth in all theprimal pomp of her beauty, with flowers andsoft airs, and the songs of birds evervwhereabout her, and tlie blue sky and the brightclouds above. But tbere is one tiling wantingto give that completeness to her advent whichbelonged to it in the olden times, and withoutwhich it is like a beautiful flower without scent,or a beautiful face without a soul. The voiceof man is no longer hea,rd hailing her ap-proach as site hastens to bless him; and hischoral symphon
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Keywords: ., bookcentury1800, bookdecade1840, booksubjectagricul, bookyear1848
