THE PRINCESS’ PROGRESS

Across the dusky land

The Gracious Goddess, Spring,

In vernal robes arrayed,

Last night her royal progress made,

Scattering with lavish hand

Her fragrant blossoming.

Along the wold,

In spendthrift glee,

She strewed her gold

And gilded all the lea.

The dandelions’ yellow coin

Lie scattered in the tangled grass,

And buttercup and crocus join

To tell the way she chose to pass.

In lavish wealth the gleaming daffodil

Shines on the cloudy April hill,

And many a yellow marigold

Marks where her brazen chariot rolled;

The slender-necked narcissus bends

His dewy head, and leaning down,

Looks deep to find within a dew-drop's lens

A mirrowing pool where Love may drown.

No cranny deep nor nook

But felt her tender look;

No secret leafy place

But warmed before her face

And blossomed with her grace.

The woodland, sombre yesterday,

Hath in her presence donned a brave array,

And in a night grown gay.

Her purple cloak, all careless flung,

Upon the red-bud hung;

And on the forest trees,

Her richest laceries.

While sprinkled deep with dust of gold

The tender, flowery branches hold

Her verdant robe blown fold on fold.

Her queenly figure clad

In broidered raiment glad,

Complete and passing sweet,

Hath set the sylvan zephyrs mad.

About her breathed rare odors sweet,

Of roses blowing neath her feet:

About her breathed sweet odors rare,

Of violets shaken from her hair,

As though unseen of mortal eyes,

She‘ d jarred the gates of Paradise.

Her crystal horn in passing by she wound,

And at the witching sound,

As by the enchanter's stroke,

The fields in music broke,

And every silent grove in melody awoke.

Responsive to her charmed lyre

The dewy-throated choir

Carol in every brake and brier,

And flood with golden song

The verdant reaches ranged along —

Where drinking deep from fountains clear

Their inspiration,

They hymn their jubilation

That Spring again is here;

And all together sing

The Goddess of the Year,

The Spring: the gracious Spring.