POETRY.
THE PEACE OF SPRING.
BEAUTIFUL on the mountains are the feet of Spring, which oometh Yearly the graves of last year's flowers to deck with new; Yearly the migrant swallow back to the old roof hometh- Even the yearling swallow to the nest whence first he flew.
Whether in joy or sorrow the world greet her, she comes— Spring universal healer of winter's ruin and pain.
So she will come to-morrow, touching a whole world's homes With caress of returning sunshine, smile of kind April's rain.
When the grass springs green on the mountain, parched and sere from the snow,
And the wind-flower nods in the valley, and the rye is blue on the mead—
What if amidst her splendid life must your vision show Only the absence of dear ones of whom your soul has need.
The year's spring calls in the valley, rosy she cries on the scaur ; Death is parent of increase, birth robs death of his sting. Han alone may not deny her, his soul springs free from the War— Dram her, maintain her, hold her—even the Peace of Spring.
O. R.
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