POETRY.
AN ALPINE APRIL.
AMARYLLIs has deserted Shady vales where once she flirted With the shepherds round their flocks ; In the sunshine of the ether, Leaving lovers far beneath her, She is nesting with the eagle in the rocks And the silent Alpine fox With the marmot and the crow Watch her lightly come and go, Track her footsteps in the snow To her bower, where the branches Of the pine and fir above her, Bent beneath the avalanches, Grow into a, leafy covert, Where the birds fly in to meet her And the mountain-fairies greet her, As of old Singing of the ancient hills Till the song the valley fills, Till the frozen leaves unfold As they listen ; and the voices Rise and fall till Night rejoices ; While the magic of the Moon Doth a silvern silence keep And a spirit mild and boon Floats her to her sleep.
Then the threaded moonbeams quiver Like the foam upon a river, Gathering into shapes of light, And the crystals on the snow Flash and follow, to and fro, To the singing of the Spirits of the Night.
Spirits ! tell me of your singing :— Of the sunny Southern dales Where the ivy softly clinging To the trees their beauty veils, Where the scent of life and living Rises from the ruddy soil, Where all Nature gives, and giving, Asks but little toil.
Spirits ! tell me of your singing :— Of the hardy Northern men, Where the mountain-tops are ringing And the cliffs resound again With the avalanche's thunder And the torrents crashing under, When the earth has split in twain : Of the pastures on the mountains And the flocks beside the fountains, And the hard, grey soil beneath, Where stern-featured Nature, scowling, Shuts her mouth, or opens, growling, Lines of jagged teeth.
Spirits ! bring her in her slumber Dreams of sunshine without number, Dreams of happiness and love, Fancies of a sweet awaking, Of a Dawn in splendour breaking In the trembling Blue above.
So, when every star is paling And the soft Moon's lustre failing, When our Night is near its Day, Though the cold of winter still is Dark upon us, Amaryllis Shall return and bring her lilies With the flowers of May. T. A. C.
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