NATURE'S RESURRECTION.

Hark! it is the robin crying,

He has heard the voice of Spring;

From the woods the crow is flying,

And the jay is on the wing.

Slowly now the sun is ranging

Each day nearer to the west;

All things tell the year is changing,

Nature wakens from her rest.

Lower sink the snow-drifts daily,

Half the pasture lands are bare;

And the little streams leap gayly

From their chains to breathe the air.

While the barren earth rejoices,

Care-worn mortal, come away,—

Listen to the pleasant voices

Of the resurrection day.

Dost thou understand the token?

Nature should not teach in vain

What its gracious Lord hath spoken —

That the dead shall live again!