From the Hartford Times. MORNING IN SPRING. >
{"newspaper_name": "The Litchfield County post.", "edition": "01", "page": "p1", "byline": ""}
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I1OW sweet tue IdEOScape! MOrnlnS IWlne Her tresses round the brow of day, And bright mists O'er the forest pines,

 Like happy spirits float away, To revel'On the mountains crown, @ Whence the glad stream comes shoutin down

 Through woods and rocks that hang on high Like clouds against the deep blue sky. The woven sounds of bird and stream,

 Are stealing beautiful and deep Upon the spirit, like dream

 Of music on the hour of sleep: And gently from the dewy bowers, Soft murmurs, like the breath of flowers, Are winding through the purple grove, And blending with the notes of Love. z The streams in veins of beauty flow; The sunrise gale Der flower and tree So lightly breathes, it scarce would blow

 fairy bark upon the sea;s. It comes so fresh, sOwiid, so sweet, It draws the heart from its retreat To ningle with the gIories born In the first holy light of morn. The lake, unrufffed by the breeze, c-

 Smiles in its sweet unbrOken rest, As it were dreaming ofthe trees

 And blossoms pictured on its breast; Its depths are glowing bright and fair, And the deep skies seem hallowcd there, Soft trembling-as they felt the thrill .. Of music echoing from the hill. A cloud is on the sky above,

 And calmly OCT the young years blue, ''Tis coming. like thing of Love,

 To gladden. in the rising dew; .., . It's white waves with the sunlight blend, - And gentle Spirits seem to bend From its unroiing folds, to hear The glad sounds in our joyous sphere. The living soulof beauty fills

 The air with glorious visions-bright, They finger round the sunny hills

 And wander in the clear blue light; Of to the breathing heaven they go-- Along the earth they live and glow Shed Der the lake their happy smiles, And beckon to its glittering Isles. Oh! at this hour-when air and earth

 Are gushing Love, and Joy. and Light, And songs ofgladness halthe birth

 Of all that's beautiful and bright; Each heart beats high-each thought is blow To fame-the Spirit drinks the tone Of brighter worlds, and melts away In visions of Eternal day