POETRY.

4 FOR TEE ENaUlREH.

SPRING.
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But when stood beneath the fresh green tree, And saw around me the wide field thrive Wiih fruits and fertile promise, and the spring Come forsh her works of gladnsss to cOntrive' With all her reckless birds upon the wing, Grn'd from all she brought tS those she could no bring. LOd Byron. Spring! with thy voice of glad"ess,

 Thy tone of waters free, Leaping in brightness to the touch

 Of sunbeams, joyOusly; In thy sweet laughter holy

 And beautiful thou art- But hast thou, 'md thy thousand joys,

 Balm for the mourner's heart? I list, and music'S voices

 Come out On every air; Birds of thousand forest tones

 The wild, the bright are there But oh! one tone is wanting

 Amid the vines at play The voices of the beautiful

 The lov'd-she pass'd away. gaze, and things all beauty

 Come forth amid the spring; Things of the glorious rainbow plume Things of the starry wing: But oh there comes a sadness

 Mid things all bright and fair-- Fond forms that stood around my youth, Are they too gather'd there. Spring! thine are fearful splendors

 To those who mourning sigh, h dark ness and tn agony, Der things of earth gone by: With thy rich golden sunshine,

 All beautiful thou art; Bot oh there is not 'mid thy joys Balm for rhe mourner's heart. SEDLEY.