| |
| THE BIRDS their love-notes warble | |
| Among the blossomed trees; | |
| The flowers are sighing forth their sweets | |
| To wooing honey-bees; | |
| The glad brook o’er a pebbly floor | 5 |
| Goes dancing on its way,— | |
| But not a thing is so like spring | |
| As happy Alice Ray. | |
| |
| An only child was Alice, | |
| And, like the blest above, | 10 |
| The gentle maid had ever breathed | |
| An atmosphere of love; | |
| Her father’s smile like sunshine came, | |
| Like dew her mother’s kiss; | |
| Their love and goodness made her home, | 15 |
| Like heaven, the place of bliss. | |
| |
| Beneath such tender training, | |
| The joyous child had sprung, | |
| Like one bright flower, in wild-wood bower, | |
| And gladness round her flung; | 20 |
| And all who met her blessed her, | |
| And turned again to pray | |
| That grief and care might ever spare | |
| The happy Alice Ray. | |
| |
| The gift that made her charming | 25 |
| Was not from Venus caught; | |
| Nor was it, Pallas-like, derived | |
| From majesty of thought; | |
| Her heathful cheek was tinged with brown, | |
| Her hair without a curl— | 30 |
| But then her eyes were love-lit stars, | |
| Her teeth as pure as pearl. | |
| |
| And when in merry laughter | |
| Her sweet, clear voice was heard, | |
| It welled from out her happy heart | 35 |
| Like carol of a bird; | |
| And all who heard were moved to smiles, | |
| As at some mirthful lay, | |
| And to the stranger’s look replied, | |
| “’T is that dear Alice Ray.” | 40 |
| |
| And so she came, like sunbeams | |
| That bring the April green; | |
| As type of nature’s royalty, | |
| They called her “Woodburn’s queen!” | |
| A sweet, heart-lifting cheerfulness, | 45 |
| Like spring-time of the year, | |
| Seemed ever on her steps to wait,— | |
| No wonder she was dear. | |
| |
| Her world was ever joyous— | |
| She thought of grief and pain | 50 |
| As giants in the olden time, | |
| That ne’er would come again; | |
| The seasons all had charms for her, | |
| She welcomed each with joy,— | |
| The charm that in her spirit lived | 55 |
| No changes could destroy. | |
| |
| Her heart was like a fountain, | |
| The waters always sweet,— | |
| Her pony in the pasture, | |
| The kitten at her feet, | 60 |
| The ruffling bird of Juno, and | |
| The wren in the old wall, | |
| Each knew her loving carefulness, | |
| And came at her soft call. | |
| |
| Her love made all things lovely, | 65 |
| For in the heart must live | |
| The feeling that imparts the charm,— | |
| We gain by what we give. | |
| |
