Herald and tribune. [volume] (Jonesborough, Tenn.) 1869-current, 1872-03-21
A California Spring.


Sc The time Of the singing of birds has
come, and the voice of the turtle is heard
in the land" 1t is California's spring
time. Noiselessly, beauteously. joyously
has the fair goddess grasped the sceptre of
the seasons, to reign in all her budding
loveliness. She opens her empire with
gentleness. Blessings brood in the air.
making it soft and fragrant. Precocious
trees. impatient of restraint, vie with each
other in budding before their time, making
ready to trick themselves out in May-day
regalia; frolicsome little birdlings are
chirping among the boughs, prodigal of
music and foolish coquetries. The music
al laughter of the garrulous brook, with
seductive power, calls forth the timid
spires of trembling grass which skirt its
unduiating banks and the rude cares of
the frollicking stream makes each twig and
tree more green and beautiful, and by and
by they will speak their gratitude by
stretching out their mantled boughs, heavy
with beauteous verdure.
A sweet lesson is the joyous music of
these dancing brooks. They counsel song
and rejoicing, as one trudges along; and
the rougher the road the more stirring the
music. They hint. the old proverb, also,
that he who watcrcth shall himself be
watered that the green plants of CRATE
ful affection find root in the generous soil.
They teach us to make our own harmo-
MICS, and carry our own refreshments along
with us. They instruct US tosteal out the
mournful silence from the atmosphere
about us, and mako it vocal with song.
Yes it is California S spring time. Win
ter, petulent and fretful, BIT never down
right cross, has lifted his wrinkled brow,
sighed his farewell requiem, aud departed.
He lives only in name-scarcely that.
His ayaricious heiress, Spring, bouyant
with fresh young life, comes dancing on,
tossing back kisses to her silvery-headed
sire, and rejoicing Qike many a willful and
ungrateful child) that the old veteran is
safely out of the way, forgetting that his
dominion prepared the weary earth and
waiting hearts for her own joyous coming.
Let her be decorous in her cxultation, for
soon the swift-winged months will pass,
and rosy young Summer shall step in, to
listen in turn to her dying requiem. Thus
earth's changes comc-"all. to reaourish,
fades"
But now it is the spring-time! The
hills are garnishing their proud heights
with flowers and verdure; the meek val
leys put on their emerald hue the mead
ows and lawns spread out a beautiful mo-
sale of grass and flowers; the vine-cover-
ed thickets are bursting with the songs of
cc5tatic birds mysterious little tete-a-te-
tes are going on in the hedge-rows-there
are sharp bargainings for homesteads be-
ing driven; broad pastures, ashamed Of
past shortcomings, are sending up luscious
herbage, the fragrant earth turns up ro-
guish face to the whistling plow boy, Civ
ing the wink for bountiful harvest amo
rous buds smile and blush, as they whis
per to each other of great expectations
''reviving sickness lifts her languid head"
and the bow Of the covenant arches the
sky while the clouds send down the gen.
tie rain, reminding of the promise that
that seed-time and harvest never fail;
fields, where the wanton wind,
passing over the stubble, found nothing to
move, have been caressed by the lusty
Spring into generous moods, and are al
ready decking themselves in the proud
pomp of summer apparel: Nature has
lifted herself from her rensive reverie,
and her face is all aglow with visions of
the jocund harvest.
Beautiful, bright, suggestive spring |
time, luminous with hopes that take hold |
on Immortality! Evcry springing blade,
every delicate spire, every fresh, green
leaf, whispers so clearly, SO melodiously,
Of spring time just at hand, when the
soul shall put OH its immortal vesture,
and array itself in the beautiful garments
which beft that resurrectional springtime
which is the perpetual climate of the Eden
of God.
Mourning one! Is the cradle empty
where thy treasure lay? Is the partner
of thy life sleeping? Has the cold win
ter of Death frozen up pall thy joys? Has
the pride of thy life been hidden in
'.1eath's dateless night?'' The spring
time comes, with all its budding glories
The frosts of Death can never reach the
spirit: beneath the cold exterior the liv-
ing waters still wind and play, and when
the resurrectional spring dawns. even
the surface shall melt again into life, and
break forth into everlasting song and re-
oicing. The spring-time comes-Califor-
MAS glorious spring time! Send up the
voice of thanksgiving for the spring-time
From Etc" in Overland Aontly for
March. i..- @