University of Virginia Library

ODE XLIII. THE GRASHOPPER.

Thee, sweet Grashopper, we call
Happiest of Insects all,
Who from Spray to Spray canst skip,
And the Dew of Morning sip:
Little Sips inspire to sing;
Then thou'rt happy as a King.
All, whatever thou can'st see,
Herbs and Flowers belong to thee;
All the various Seasons yield,
All the Produce of the Field.
Thou, quite innocent of Harm,
Lov'st the Farmer, and the Farm;
Singing sweet when Summer's near,
Thou to all Mankind art dear;
Dear to all the tuneful Nine
Seated round the Throne divine;
Dear to Phœbus, God of Day,
He inspir'd thy sprightly Lay,
And with Voice melodious blest,
And in vivid Colours drest.
Thou from Spoil of Time art free;
Age can never injure thee.
Wisest Daughter of the Earth!
Fond of Song, and full of Mirth;
Free from Flesh, exempt from Pains,
No Blood riots in thy Veins:
To the Blest I equal thee;
Thou'rt a Demi-Deity.