[Congressional Record Volume 147, Number 37 (Tuesday, March 20, 2001)]
[Senate]
[Pages S2552-S2553]
From the Congressional Record Online through the Government Publishing Office [www.gpo.gov]




                           MILLENNIAL SPRING

  Mr. BYRD. In the midst of this very important discussion on a very 
serious subject, if we could take just a few minutes to call attention 
to the coming of spring.
  It used to be that Senators would take note of these things years ago 
when I first came here. They would talk about Flag Day, Independence 
Day, Easter, the Fourth of July--I already mentioned that--and the 
coming of spring, the coming of summer, the coming of fall, the coming 
of winter, and so on. Those things do not seem to be of great interest 
around here anymore. But as one who has been here a long time, I still 
like to hold on to the old ways.
  Percy Bysshe Shelley said:

       Oh, Wind, if Winter comes, can Spring be far behind?

  Well, spring is here. I was asked by my friend from Nevada, Senator 
Reid, if I might think of a poem that could be appropriate for this 
occasion. I have thought a little bit about it, and the words of 
William Wordsworth come to mind. I hope I can remember them. He said:

       I wander'd lonely as a cloud
       That floats on high o'er vales and hills,
       When all at once I saw a crowd,
       A host of golden daffodils;
       Beside the lake, beneath the trees,
       Fluttering and dancing in the breeze.

       Continuous as the stars that shine
       And twinkle on the Milky Way,
       They stretch'd in never-ending line
       Along the margin of a bay:
       Ten thousand saw I, at a glance,
       Tossing their heads in sprightly dance.

       The waves beside them danced; but they
       Out-did the sparkling waves in glee:
       A poet could not but be gay,
       In such a jocund company:
       I gazed--and gazed--but little thought
       What wealth the show to me had brought:

       For oft, when on my couch I lie
       In vacant or in pensive mood,
       They flash upon that inward eye
       Which is the bliss of solitude;
       And then my heart with pleasure fills,
       And dances with the daffodils.

  Mr. President, today is the first spring day of the third millennium. 
We have survived the great change of the calendar, and the world did 
not end. We endured the buffeting of a winter of uncertainty, with 
skyrocketing fuel bills--and we are still very much engaged in that 
matter--threats of nor'easters--I wonder why these television people 
always say ``nor'easters.'' They just are trying to join in the spirit 
of things, I suppose. But I still call them northeasters--threats of 
nor'easters and even earthquakes now behind us.
  The NASDAQ, the New York Stock Exchange, the Dow, the S&P 500--all 
have been on a roller coaster ride of short heights followed by heart-
stopping plunges. The uncertainties of last year's Presidential 
election have become a comedic staple of dimpled, pregnant, and hanging 
chads, the punch lines obscuring the gravity of ensuring the stable 
transition of government power. But today, it is spring--it may not be 
the first spring day, but it is the first day of spring--and it is a 
good time to pause, and take a deep breath--ah--and savor the moment.
  The change of seasons is a reassuring constant in our lives. The slow 
swing of the celestial clock chimes in close harmony with our deepest 
nature. It is as deep and calm as our own mother's, keeping time with 
the lullabies she used to lull us to sleep with, as infants. Today, the 
peals ring in the spring.
  Across the country, warm days call us forth, out of our stale houses, 
away from our rumpled, dormant winter hibernations in front of 
yammering, yakking television sets. As we rake the drifts of dead 
leaves from the sheltered corners where they have gathered, we stir up 
the sweet perfume--ah, the sweet perfume--of the awakening earth. Under 
the cold brown coverlet of dirt, spring's life-force is beginning to 
stir. The dainty crocus sparkle amid the straw colored remains of last 
year's lush lawn.
  I was commenting to my wife Erma about those crocuses outside, just 
beside the front porch of our house. Gaudy daffodils, about which 
Wordsworth wrote, reward the early bumblebee. Young squirrels are 
chasing--and they like peanuts. I have several squirrels at my humble 
cottage in McLean, and each night I take a handful of peanuts and put 
them under a table there just outside the door that goes out into my 
backyard. Those squirrels, by the time I rise in the morning, by the 
time I have a chance to take my little dog Billy Byrd out for a walk, 
sneak away, taking those peanuts from underneath the table. Then I 
will, a little later, open the door, and there are two, three, four, 
five, or six squirrels, and I toss them out a handful of peanuts.
  Those young squirrels are chasing each other up and down and around 
tree trunks in a three-ring circus display of acrobatics. Talk about 
acrobatics, they can put on a show. Already, the first robins have 
returned, and birds are warbling their finest arias in between the 
labors of nest building. The turquoise skies of autumn faded to the 
pale aquamarine of winter, but now glow as vibrantly as a star 
sapphire.

     Again rejoicing Nature sees
     Her robe assume its vernal hues,
     Her leafy locks wave in the breeze,
     All freshly steep'd in morning dews.

  So wrote the poet Robert Burns. With all these signals, I do not need 
a calendar to tell me that the vernal equinox heralding the official 
arrival of spring is at hand.
  In the rejuvenating warmth of the spring sun, the dot.com die-off no 
longer looms as threateningly as the extinction of the dinosaurs. It is 
possible to view the stock market correction--I say to my dear friend 
from Connecticut, Senator Dodd--with equilibrium, if not with 
enthusiasm. We have made it through another winter, a winter of our 
discontent, to paraphrase Shakespeare. The great Bard also said--and 
truly--``Daffodils, that come before the swallow dares, and take the 
winds of March with beauty.'' With the daffodils, hope also blossoms.

[[Page S2553]]

  Mr. President, I hope for a spring of millennial proportions--a 
spring of renewed vigor and energy in this nation to tackle the 
challenges ahead. I hope for new growth in our economy. Over the past 
weeks, the Senate has been debating the budget and tax cuts. It has 
been a difficult task, made more so by the lack of detail provided by 
the administration. The size of the tax cut promise has been clear, but 
the spending plans to accompany it have been vague. The administration 
is asking us to trade our cow for a handful of magic beans but, unlike 
Jack in the fable, I am not so sure that this fairy tale will end well. 
It may be that the giant comes crashing down on us in the form of large 
future deficits. After all, these projected surpluses are based upon 
projections of economic growth that have not, and may not, materialize.
  Every good gardener knows, especially in springtime, that garden 
plans made in the glow of a winter's fireside do not always pan out 
when faced with the vagaries of late frosts, early droughts, or insect 
infestations. Indeed, one fierce storm can lay low all of one's efforts 
in a single blow. A wise gardener dreams big but takes care of the 
basics first. He builds rich soil, clears it, weeds it well, plants 
strong seedlings, and tends to them carefully. Patience and a long 
viewpoint are the watchwords. On the national economic level, that 
means paying down the debt and maintaining the economic infrastructure 
that is the soil for our current and future economic growth. Just as a 
garden needs hoses to carry water and flats in which to tend seedlings, 
so the nation needs transportation networks to carry commerce and 
schools in which to nurture and teach our children. Then as prosperity 
blossoms can some blooms be harvested in the form of targeted tax cuts, 
leaving most of the plant intact to set seeds and prepare for the 
coming winter. But one certainly does not pull up the entire plant at 
the first sign of fruit! That is short-sighted and imprudent. It leaves 
nothing to carry the family through the winter that will surely come.

  But now, Mr. President, it is springtime and everything feels 
possible. Let us rejoice--my dear friend, Senator McCain, and Senator 
Dodd, an equally dear and trusted friend--let us rejoice in the new 
growth and in the growing strength of the brightening sun. Let us take 
up with patience the gardener's hoe and weed the row before us. Our 
diligence and care now will bring us rewards later. Let us savor the 
moment and rejoice in the first day of spring. Who knows whether we 
shall see another, so let us rejoice in this one. I close with the 
words of the poet Robert Browning that have always captured for me the 
spirit of this time of year:

     The year's at the Spring,
     And the day's at the morn;
     Morning's at seven;
     The hillside's dew-pearled;
     The lark's on the wing;
     The snail's on the thorn:
     God's in his Heaven--
     All's right with the world!

  The PRESIDING OFFICER. The Senator from Connecticut.
  Mr. DODD. Mr. President, I thank our distinguished colleague from 
West Virginia. In the midst of a debate on campaign finance reform, 
this was a needed respite from the minutia of fundraising, attempts to 
modify the present system. His words of eloquence are always welcome in 
this body but never more so than in the midst of the debate today.
  I appreciate his quoting of Robert Burns and Browning and Wordsworth, 
but listening to him describe the arrival of spring and the departure 
of winter is poetic in itself. I can see one day people quoting Robert 
C. Byrd, the poet, when they welcome the spring at some future year.
  Mr. BYRD. Mr. President, I thank my distinguished friend for his 
overly gracious comments.
  The PRESIDING OFFICER. The Senator from Arizona.
  Mr. McCAIN. Mr. President, I thank Senator Byrd for his annual 
admonition to all of us to conduct ourselves in a way that reflects the 
dignity and comity of this institution and reminds us of the transience 
of all this and the importance of friendships and relationships that 
are established in this very unique organization.
  There is a time for us to pause and reflect. There is no one in this 
body who gives us a more enlightening opportunity than the 
distinguished Senator from West Virginia.
  So I thank Senator Byrd. And I also admire the vest he is wearing 
today as well. I thank the Senator and I will speak on the pending 
amendment.

                          ____________________