Explore "The Mayflower" by Joseph C. Lincoln on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
In the gleam and gloom of the April weather, / When the snows have flown in the brooklet's flood, / And the Showers and Sunshine sport together, / And the proud Bough boasts of the baby Bud; / On the hillside brown, where the dead leaves linger / In crackling layers, all crimped and curled, / She parts their folds with a timid finger, / And shyly peeps at the waking world.
The roystering West Wind flies to greet her, / And bids her haste, with a gleeful shout: / The quickening Saplings bend to meet her, / And the first green Grass-blades call, "Come out! " / So, venturing forth with a dainty neatness, / In gown of pink or in white arrayed, / She comes once more in her fresh completeness, / A modest, fair little Pilgrim Maid.
Her fragrant petals, their beauties showing, / Creep out to sprinkle the hill and dell, / Like showers of Stars in the shadows glowing, / Or Snowflakes blossoming where they fell; / And the charmed Wood leaps into joyous blooming, / As though't were touched by a Fairy's ring, / And the glad Earth scents, in the rare perfuming, / The first sweet breath of the new-born Spring.