The Vernal Shower

Welcome once more, my pretty Lady Spring ;
So young a Spring we have not seen for years.
Even thy brief morning fit of girlish tears
Was bright and sweet as droppings from the wing
Of kindly sylph, through ether voyaging
On some good errand to the distant spheres ;
And every bud and blade, to which adheres
The pure aspersion, seems a conscious thing,
Renew'd in spirit. Light the birdie leaps,
Shaking translucent gems from every spray :
And merrily down the many-shadow'd steeps
The streamlets whiten, all in new array.
Joy to the vale if Summer do but keep
The bounteous promise of this April day.