SPRING

Bleak winter is subdu’d at length,
And forc’d to yield the day;
The sun has wasted all his strength,
And driven him away.

And now long wish’d-for spring is come,
How alter’d is the scene!
The trees and shrubs are dress’d in bloom,
The earth array’d in green.

Where’er we tread, beneath our feet
The clust’ring flowers spring;
The artless birds, in concert sweet,
Invite our hearts to sing.

But, ah! in vain I strive to join,
Oppress’d with sin and doubt;
I feel ’tis winter still within,
Though all is spring without.

Oh! would my Saviour from on high
Break through these clouds and shine!
No creature then more blest than I,
No song more loud than mine.

Till then—no softly-warbling thrush,
Nor cowslip’s sweet perfume,
Nor beauties of each painted bush,
Can dissipate my gloom.

To Adam, soon as he transgress’d,
Thus Eden bloom’d in vain;
Not Paradise could give him rest,
Or soothe his heart-felt pain.

Yet here an emblem I perceive
Of what the Lord can do;
Dear Saviour, help me to believe,
That I may flourish too.

Thy word can soon my hopes revive,
Can overcome my foes,
And make my languid graces thrive,
And blossom like the rose.

Deze tekst is geautomatiseerd gemaakt en kan nog fouten bevatten. Digibron werkt voortdurend aan correctie. Klik voor het origineel door naar de pdf. Voor opmerkingen, vragen, informatie: contact.

Op Digibron -en alle daarin opgenomen content- is het databankrecht van toepassing. Gebruiksvoorwaarden. Data protection law applies to Digibron and the content of this database. Terms of use.

Printen