Eric Martin

Morning in Spring



Lingering winter yields itself at last
To spring, as Nature re-erects her spires.
Heaven’s brightening dome, serene and vast,
Distills dissolving dews and warming fires.
Morning’s breath, incensed by blossoming trees,
Pervades my lips, and permeates my soul.
Songbirds, waking, blend their melodies
With those of woodland rill and grassy knoll.
Instrument of mine! — Oh, blissful lyre! —
Fill these woods with song, adorn my verse,
Rouse my fervor, liven my desire,
Aid my voice to charm the universe.
Ah! to live like this in solitude —
Far from the discords of the multitude!
.