University of Virginia Library

Progress of vegetation. Delight of observing it. Sources of such delight. Appearance of the blade. Flush of green on the hedges, &c. Bursting of the leaf of forest trees. Sycamore. Horse Chestnut. Ground matted with fresh leaves. Gradual opening of the blossoms.

Now day by day, and hour by hour,
Is felt and own'd the quickening power.
As when the rising flood's at hand,
To one who loiters on the strand
'Tis pleasant by the ocean's side
To muse, and mark the incoming tide,
And count the billows of the deep
As onward step by step they creep,
Till one broad convex shield o'erlay
With silver all the brimming bay:
Ev'n so 'tis sweet, this vernal time,
To mark the still advancing prime,
How in her calm and creeping course
Boon nature's vegetative force

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Steals onward with resistless flow;
As promising erelong to throw
A broad and bloom-embroider'd robe
Of verdure o'er the smiling globe.
On earth no lovelier sight is seen
Than that bloom-broider'd robe of green,
Which hangs its fair and fresh array
On the young form of bonny May.
And yet I know not but a sense
More keen the previous steps dispense,
As on the work progressive goes,
Nor yet its full perfection shows.
Then each fresh symptom, one by one
Appearing, as a trophy won
Is treasur'd, as a special gain
From winter's stern and gloomy reign.
Each charm that takes the ear or view,
Not beauteous only, but as new,
Makes to the admiring mind appeal;
And much as beauty's pow'r we feel,
Yet novelty itself alone
Has charms peculiarly its own.
Then, as successive objects rise,
With fresh enjoyment and surprise
Each draws the raptur'd mind to dwell
On each successive miracle;
And, while it swells the previous store,
Gives pledge and earnest yet of more,
Enlarging thus the present scope
Of pleasure with the future's hope:
And hope assur'd the mind employs
As vividly as actual joys.

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But passing this; for objects fair
May less behove us to compare
In thought with others, than from each
The joys within our present reach
To gather, nor meanwhile forget
The Source of goodness, and the debt
We owe Him; yes, 'tis pleasant now
To watch the first fruits of the plough;
And from the seed so lately sown,
And buried in the furrows brown,
See, while we slept, the spear-like blade
The field with tender verdure shade.
'Tis pleasant on each hardy tree,
Currant, or prickly gooseberry,
Along the hawthorn's level line,
Or bush of fragrant eglantine,
Bramble, or pithy elder pale,
Or larch, or woodbine's twisted trail,
Or willow lithe, a flush of green
To note with light transparent skreen
At intervals the branches hide
Of vegetable gauze; till wide
It spreads, and thickens to the eye,
A close-wove veil of deeper die.
'Tis pleasant to contemplate how
Grows on the yet unmantled bough
The swelling leaf profuse; if vain
Of likeness to the beauteous plane,
The forward Sycamore display
His foliage; or the shining spray
Of Chestnut to the sun protrude
His lengthen'd and expanded bud

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Adhesive:—to remark it first
Its brown exterior armour burst
Of many a closely serried scale,
Close as the steel-clad warrior's mail,
And slowly thro' each loosen'd joint
Appear with green and spiral point
Emerging; then its braids unfold
Plait after plait, so nicely roll'd,
That once unwrapt in vain would art
Fold it anew: till every part,
Stalk, fibre, frame and framework, meet
In union; and the leaf complete
Light in the passing breezes plays,
And twinkles in the sunny rays.
'Tis pleasant on the ground to pore,
And with discerning gaze explore
The leaves that mat the coppice dank,
The pathway side, or hedgerow bank,
Chequering the now prolifick mould;
With fine mosaick, manifold
In figure, size, and tint, inlaid,
A carpet green by nature made,
Ere yet of damask work she pours
From her rich loom the blooming flowers.
And now, as nature from her loom
Pours gradual forth each opening bloom,
'Tis pleasant all the course to see
Of that delightful mystery:
To see the cloven cup display
From its spread valves in meet array
The tender blossom's apt design,
And texture delicately fine,

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Of virgin whiteness, or with print
Imprest of many a rainbow tint,
In patterns numberless dispos'd;
And then those petals fair unclos'd
To see, with threadlike stamens crown'd,
And farinaceous anthers, round
The central style; and how they throw
Thence to the swelling chest below
The fertilising dust, and feed
By pow'r unseen the future seed.