apotheosize the powers of the board, that they may appear in the sieges,
heroisms, and victories of life.

* * * * *



SPRING-SONG.

Creep slowly up the willow-wand,
Young leaves! and, in your lightness,
Teach us that spirits which despond
May wear their own pure brightness.

Into new sweetness slowly dip,
O May!--advance; yet linger:
Nor let the ring too swiftly slip
Down that new-plighted finger.

Thy bursting blooms, O spring, retard!
While thus thy raptures press on,
How many a joy is lost, or marred
How many a lovely lesson!

For each new sweet thou giv'st us, those
Which first we loved are taken:
In death their eyes must violets close
Before the rose can waken.

Ye woods, with ice-threads tingling late,