He enters through the river gate, borne by the joyous crowd.




SEVENTH YEAR--SECOND HALF


ALFRED TENNYSON
ENGLAND, 1809-1892

EARLY SPRING

Once more the Heavenly Power
Makes all things new,
And domes the red-plow'd hills
With loving blue;
The blackbirds have their wills,
The throstles too.

Opens a door in Heaven;
From skies of glass
A Jacob's ladder falls
On greening grass,
And o'er the mountain-walls
Young angels pass.

Before them fleets the shower,
And bursts the buds,
And shine the level lands,