Portage sentinel. [volume] (Ravenna, Ohio) 1845-1854, 1853-04-27
The Dawn of Spring.
BY IKE MARVEL.

love to trace the break Of Spring step by step;
love even those long rain storms that sap the icy
fortresees of the lingering winter, that melt the
snow upon the hills, and swell the mountain
brooks;-that make the pools heaye up their glas-
sy cerements of ice, and hurry down the crashing
fragments into the wastes of the ocean.
love the gentle thaws that trace day by day,
by the stained snow banks shrinking from the
grass and by the gentle drip Of the cottage ewes.
love to search out the sunny slopes by SOUTH
ern wall, where the reflected sun does double duty
to the earth, and where the frail anemone or the
faint blush of the arbutus In the midst Of the bleak
March atmosphere, will touch your heart like a
hope of Heaven, In q field ofgrayes! Later comes
those soft smoky days, when the patches of VIM
ter grain shows green under the shelter Of leaess
woods, and the last snow drifts reduced toshrunk.
en- skeletons of Ice, lie upon the slope Of northern
hills, leaking away their life.
Them the grass at your door grows into the
color of the spreuting grain, and the buds upon
the lilaes swell, and burst. The peaches bloom
upon the wall, and the plumbs wear bodies Of
white. The sparkling oriole, picks strings for
his hammock on his sycamore, and the sparrows
twlt In pairs. The old elms throw down their
dingy flowers, and color their spray with green;
and the brooks, where you throw your worm or
minnew, float down whole fleets Of the crimson
blossoms of the maple. Finally, the oak steps
into the open quadrlle of Spring, with grayish
turfs of modest verdue, which, by and by, will be
long and glossy leaves. The dog wood pitches
his broad white tent in the edge of the forest the
dandelions lie along the hilloeks, like stars In
sky of green; and the wild.cherry growing in all
the hedge rows, without other culture than Gods,
lifts up to Him, thankfully, its tremulous white
finger. @
Amid all this, comes the rich rains of Spridg.
The affections Of boy grow up with tears to wat
er them; and the year blossoms with flowers
But the clouds hover over an April sky, timidly-
like shodows upon innocence. The showers come
gently and drop daintily to the earth,-with now
and then a glimpse ofsunshine to make the drops
bright-like so many tears of joy.
The rain of winter Is cold, and it comes in Bit
ter scuds that blind you but the rain of April
steals upon you coolly, half reluctanly-yet Low.
ngly-lke the steps of bride to the altar.
1t does not gather like the storm clouds of Win
ter, grey and heavy subtle and insensible ap-
proaches (like age) to the very zenith; but there
are score Of white winged swimmers a1oat, that
your eye has chased as you lay fatgued with de-
licious langor Of an April sun:-nor have you
scarce noticed that little bevy of those floating
clouds grouped together in q sombre company.
But suddenly, ye see across the fields, the dark
grey streaks stretching like lines of mists, from
the green bosom Of the valley in that spot of sky
where the company Of clouds is lettering; and
with an easy shifting of the helm the feet of SWIM
mers comes drifting over you, and drop their bur-
den into the dancing pools, and make the flowers
gsten. and the eyes drip with their crystal bounty
The cattle linger still, cropping the new.come
grass; and childhood laughs joyously at the warm
rain;-or under the cottage roof, catches with
eager ear. the patter Of it's fall.