Charlemont; Or, the Pride of the Village. a Tale of Kentucky by William Gilmore Simms
page 8 of 518 (01%)
page 8 of 518 (01%)
|
CHAPTER I. THE SCENE. The stormy and rugged winds of March were overblown--the first fresh smiling days of April had come at last--the days of sunshine and shower, of fitful breezes, the breath of blossoms, and the newly-awakened song of birds. Spring was there in all the green and glory of her youth, and the bosom of Kentucky heaved with the prolific burden of the season. She had come, and her messengers were everywhere, and everywhere busy. The birds bore her gladsome tidings to "Alley green, Dingle or bushy dell of each wild wood, And every bosky bourn from side to side--" nor were the lately-trodden and seared grasses of the forests left unnoted; and the humbled flower of the wayside sprang up at her summons. Like some loyal and devoted people, gathered to hail the approach of a long-exiled and well-beloved sovereign, they crowded upon the path over which she came, and yielded themselves with gladness at her feet. The mingled songs and sounds of their rejoicing might be heard, and far-off murmurs of gratulation, rising from the |
|