[Congressional Record (Bound Edition), Volume 154 (2008), Part 3]
[Senate]
[Pages 4247-4248]
[From the U.S. Government Publishing Office, www.gpo.gov]




                         SPRINGTIME AND EASTER

  Mr. BYRD. Mr. President, this week, as the Senate debates proposed 
changes to the budget resolution, our minds are focused keenly on the 
pros and cons of various amendments and on the consequences of the 
budget resolution for the authorization and appropriations process that 
lies ahead. We have much to do this year, and less time than usual in 
which to do it.
  Personally, I am glad to be back amid the controlled chaos of the 
annual budget debate. As many people know, I fell last week. 
Fortunately, I only gave my back a good wrench, but my family and my 
doctors insisted on a lot of care and physical therapy, which was both 
therapeutic and frustrating. I do not like to be poked and prodded and 
cajoled any more than the next person, especially after I begin to feel 
better and am ready to get back to work. Nevertheless, the rest did let 
me spend a little time staring out the windows, watching the beauty of 
springtime steal across Washington. I hope that each of my colleagues 
will have a chance to enjoy the springtime show as the Senate breaks 
for the Easter recess.
  This year, the vernal equinox falls in the middle of the Easter Holy 
Week, on Maundy Thursday. Therefore, the first day of spring is also 
the day that marks the Last Supper between Jesus and his disciples, the 
evening before the crucifixion Good Friday and the miracle of 
resurrection on Easter Sunday. It is fitting that the dawning of the 
spring and the resurrection of Christ occur in close conjunction. Both 
events celebrate renewal and rebirth, the awakening of new life. I, 
too, feel a sense of renewal this year, of restored health and energy 
that only enhances my usual affection for the springtime of year.
  I welcome spring with the words of the English poet, William Blake 
(1757-1827) in his poem, ``To Spring:''

     O thou with dewy locks, who lookest down
     Through the clear windows of the morning, turn
     Thine angel eyes upon our western isle,
     Which in full chorus hails thy approach, O Spring!

     The hills tell one another, and the listening
     Valleys hear; all our longing eyes are turn'd
     Up to thy bright pavilions: issue forth
     And let thy holy feet visit our clime!

  Next week, as Christians step through the liturgical calendar of 
Easter, observing and commemorating great events of two millennia past, 
the occupants of the northern hemisphere also count down the days to 
Spring. In these first warm and fragrant days, we can most fully 
appreciate the beauty of the season, so easily compared to the cold and 
wet weather of the previous weeks. With each trumpeting daffodil, each 
nodding crocus, each arching branch of yellow forsythia, and each 
dainty petal of blooming pear and cherry tree, we find the undeniable 
evidence of the approaching season. In the ever-lengthening evening 
light, we spy the house wren flitting about as she seeks a sheltered 
spot to build her nest. We hear, clear and strong, the first

[[Page 4248]]

evening chorus of frogs, a song that will be lost in the background 
noise later in the season. But this week, we hear it ``a capella,'' 
unaccompanied by the evening singing of crickets and the hum of air 
conditioners on hot summer evenings.
  Each sign of spring, each glory of the Easter-tide, is a gift from 
the Creator, a promise made to each of us that there is life after 
death, and beauty after the dark days of winter. I urge my colleagues 
in the Senate and those listening at home to step outside and revel in 
the glory and the beauty of spring.
  Mr. President, I close with a poem by the great American poet, Robert 
Frost (1874-1963), called ``A Prayer in Spring.'' I thank my colleagues 
for their many kind wishes for my renewed health.

     Oh, give us pleasure in the flowers to-day;
     And give us not to think so far away
     As the uncertain harvest; keep us here
     All simply in the springing of the year.

     Oh, give us pleasures in the orchard white,
     Like nothing else by day, like ghosts by night;
     And make us happy in the happy bees,
     The swarm dilating round the perfect trees.

     And make us happy in the darting bird
     That suddenly above the bees is heard,
     The meteor that thrusts in with needle bill,
     And off a blossom in mid air stands still.

     For this is love and nothing else is love,
     The which it is reserved for God above
     To sanctify to what far ends He will,
     But which it only needs that we fulfill.

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