The Works, In Verse and Prose, of Leonard Welsted ... Now First Collected. With Historical Notes, And Biographical Memoirs of the Author, by John Nichols |
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The PICTURE of a fine April Morning. |
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 | The Works, In Verse and Prose, of Leonard Welsted |  |
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The PICTURE of a fine April Morning.
The snows are melted, and the frosts are past;
No longer do we dread the wintery blast:
What garland shall Amintor now design?
What wreath, Zelinda, round thy temple twine?
For wreaths of every kind the season yields:
And garlands rest in plenty through the fields.
No longer do we dread the wintery blast:
What garland shall Amintor now design?
What wreath, Zelinda, round thy temple twine?
For wreaths of every kind the season yields:
And garlands rest in plenty through the fields.
The dawning year revives the poet's fire;
Soft strains of Love returning suns inspire:
In every wood, behold, in every glade,
Th' unsully'd verdure, and the growing shade!
All nature, like a bride, emerges bright;
And her lap teems, luxuriant with delight.
Soft strains of Love returning suns inspire:
In every wood, behold, in every glade,
Th' unsully'd verdure, and the growing shade!
All nature, like a bride, emerges bright;
And her lap teems, luxuriant with delight.
O'er tepid plains the tempering Zephyrs pass,
Call forth the bursting leaves, and spring the grass:
Afresh the painted Pansy rears its head;
The whiten'd meadow starry Daisies spread:
The birds sweet-warble from the sappy boughs;
And swains in tuneful sighs renew their vows.
Call forth the bursting leaves, and spring the grass:
Afresh the painted Pansy rears its head;
The whiten'd meadow starry Daisies spread:
The birds sweet-warble from the sappy boughs;
And swains in tuneful sighs renew their vows.
Inspire, oh blooming Maid, my artless lay,
While I recall our first auspicious day;
The dawn! my fair, when early I address'd
My tender suit, and sigh'd upon thy breast!
Zelinda blush'd; a blush the morning wore:
Zelinda smil'd; nor was it day before.
The sun a radiant lustre holds awhile;
The image of Zelinda's gleamy smile:
A feeble shine does on the water play,
And disappear by turns; a fickle ray.
Zelinda wept; when soon the changing skies
Grow black with gathering clouds, that westward rise;
Thin scatter'd now the drops, like gems, descend:
Now with the frequent shower the lilies bend:
How calm the air! a pleasing stillness reigns;
And the moist verdure brightens through the plains!
Soft-sinking falls the silver rain: when, lo!
Athwart th' horizon stretch'd, the watery bow
Swells its proud arch, with braided colours gay,
That interchange their dyes, and swift decay.
The clouds disperse: the sun pursues on high
His vaulted course, and glows along the sky:
The linnets in the dewy bushes sing;
And every field is redolent of spring.
While I recall our first auspicious day;
The dawn! my fair, when early I address'd
My tender suit, and sigh'd upon thy breast!
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Zelinda smil'd; nor was it day before.
The sun a radiant lustre holds awhile;
The image of Zelinda's gleamy smile:
A feeble shine does on the water play,
And disappear by turns; a fickle ray.
Zelinda wept; when soon the changing skies
Grow black with gathering clouds, that westward rise;
Thin scatter'd now the drops, like gems, descend:
Now with the frequent shower the lilies bend:
How calm the air! a pleasing stillness reigns;
And the moist verdure brightens through the plains!
Soft-sinking falls the silver rain: when, lo!
Athwart th' horizon stretch'd, the watery bow
Swells its proud arch, with braided colours gay,
That interchange their dyes, and swift decay.
The clouds disperse: the sun pursues on high
His vaulted course, and glows along the sky:
The linnets in the dewy bushes sing;
And every field is redolent of spring.
Such was the morn, Zelinda; may it prove
A happy emblem of Amintor's love!
Begun by smiling hopes, but soon o'ercast!
Our jealous fears, like clouds, dispers'd at last.
Pensive I hung my head, like drooping flowers;
And tears my bosom dew'd, like gentle showers:
But soon with settled joys my soul is blest;
Thy face, my Heaven, in lasting smiles is dress'd.
Let fond distrust no more past pains renew:
While thou art kind, Amintor will be true.
A happy emblem of Amintor's love!
Begun by smiling hopes, but soon o'ercast!
Our jealous fears, like clouds, dispers'd at last.
Pensive I hung my head, like drooping flowers;
And tears my bosom dew'd, like gentle showers:
But soon with settled joys my soul is blest;
Thy face, my Heaven, in lasting smiles is dress'd.
Let fond distrust no more past pains renew:
While thou art kind, Amintor will be true.
| The Works, In Verse and Prose, of Leonard Welsted | |