Poems, on sacred and other subjects and songs, humorous and sentimental: By the late William Watt. Third edition of the songs only--with additional songs |
 |
|
|
| 1. |
| 2. |
| 3. |
| 4. |
| 5. |
| 6. |
| 7. |
| 8. |
| 9. |
|
| I. |
| II. |
| III. |
| IV. |
| V. |
| VI. |
| VII. |
| VIII. |
| IX. |
| X. |
| XI. |
| XII. |
| XIII. |
| XIV. |
| XV. |
| XVI. |
| XVII. |
|
|
|
|
Ode to Spring.
|
|
|
|
| I. |
| II. |
| IV. |
| V. |
| VI. |
| VII. |
| VIII. |
|
 | Poems, on sacred and other subjects |  |
Ode to Spring.
Now winter's hurly-burly's done,
Again I see the cheering sun
Low rising o'er the heath-clad hill,
And glittering on the mossy rill:
Again the infant daisies spring,
And early larks attempt to sing;
Sweet snowdrops tuft the streamlets' brink,
And gladden in the sunny blink:
Once more I hear the ploughman's lay
Resound, to cheer the toilsome day;
While loud the lapwing, plaintive, shrill,
Screams o'er the lonely distant hill.
Again I see the cheering sun
Low rising o'er the heath-clad hill,
And glittering on the mossy rill:
Again the infant daisies spring,
And early larks attempt to sing;
Sweet snowdrops tuft the streamlets' brink,
And gladden in the sunny blink:
Once more I hear the ploughman's lay
Resound, to cheer the toilsome day;
While loud the lapwing, plaintive, shrill,
Screams o'er the lonely distant hill.
Sweet nurse to Flora, gentle Spring,
Thy blithesome power I love to sing;
Fair emblem of eternal day,
To thee I contribute my lay!
My rural haunts I now resume
Among the sweetly budding broom,
And tend the cowslip's humble bell
On sloping glade or dreary dell,
Where fairy bands oft sportive play
Till the break of rosy day.
Fondly, through the fragrant birk,
'Lone, I'll roam till it is mirk,
List'ning to the murm'ring stream,
Gazing on the lightning's gleam,
As it, glaring, flashes high
Across the dark beclouded sky.
Take the crowd's ear-grating noise
Ye who solitude despise;
Jaded riot's banquet sip
Till it gall the tasting lip;
Or revel in the midnight ball,
To music, in the splendid hall,
And drink till strumpet-surfeit pall:
More dear to me the streams and rocks,
The balmy birks and monarch oaks,
The honeysuckle's flavorous bower,
The ruined daw-frequented tower—
Dearer than mirth-inspiring bowl
To me's the lonely wailing owl.
Thy blithesome power I love to sing;
Fair emblem of eternal day,
To thee I contribute my lay!
My rural haunts I now resume
Among the sweetly budding broom,
223
On sloping glade or dreary dell,
Where fairy bands oft sportive play
Till the break of rosy day.
Fondly, through the fragrant birk,
'Lone, I'll roam till it is mirk,
List'ning to the murm'ring stream,
Gazing on the lightning's gleam,
As it, glaring, flashes high
Across the dark beclouded sky.
Take the crowd's ear-grating noise
Ye who solitude despise;
Jaded riot's banquet sip
Till it gall the tasting lip;
Or revel in the midnight ball,
To music, in the splendid hall,
And drink till strumpet-surfeit pall:
More dear to me the streams and rocks,
The balmy birks and monarch oaks,
The honeysuckle's flavorous bower,
The ruined daw-frequented tower—
Dearer than mirth-inspiring bowl
To me's the lonely wailing owl.
O! nature, thee I much revere;
Thy voice is sweeter to my ear,
Thy look more pleasant to my eye,
Than art's stiff boasted symmetry.
How luscious is the grand contrast—
Spring's whisp'ring breath to winter's blast!
This chills the heart with terror wild,
That charms the soul with cadence mild.
Now music flows from every spray
To cheer the lab'rer's hours away;
Now gay, the lately callow trees,
Leaf-clad, do rustle in the breeze,
And fields resume their gaudy green,
To banish heart-corroding teen;
The primrose decks the velvet glen,
Bog-lilies gem the marshy fen;
And now the flower-ransacking bee
Dandelion's golden smile doth see;
For to the north hoar winter's fled,
And spring's blithe look our isle doth glad.
Thy voice is sweeter to my ear,
Thy look more pleasant to my eye,
Than art's stiff boasted symmetry.
How luscious is the grand contrast—
Spring's whisp'ring breath to winter's blast!
This chills the heart with terror wild,
That charms the soul with cadence mild.
Now music flows from every spray
To cheer the lab'rer's hours away;
Now gay, the lately callow trees,
Leaf-clad, do rustle in the breeze,
And fields resume their gaudy green,
To banish heart-corroding teen;
The primrose decks the velvet glen,
Bog-lilies gem the marshy fen;
And now the flower-ransacking bee
Dandelion's golden smile doth see;
224
And spring's blithe look our isle doth glad.
But whence, O Spring, is this, thy power
To gladden man, bird, tree, and flower?
It is Jehovah's grand donation
To keep in being all creation;
Therefore to Him, first cause of all,
Let heaven and earth down prostrate fall.
To gladden man, bird, tree, and flower?
It is Jehovah's grand donation
To keep in being all creation;
Therefore to Him, first cause of all,
Let heaven and earth down prostrate fall.
| Poems, on sacred and other subjects | |