University of Virginia Library

Change In The Seasons

Has Nature a new sympathy with man,
That, in this northern clime, the pansies bloom
To deck the opening year with summer flowers?
In mid December, still the fields were green.
On my walk I found the dandelion
Full blown, and bright as when it opes in Spring,
And sprinkles all the mead with yellow gold.
The apple blossoms, early shrubs have leaves,
And Spring seems pressing on in Winter's stead!
These fair signs we see are not deceptive.
Experience has shown from year to year,
That Winter grows more mild. Rivers that once
Were frozen, so that heavy wagons crost
Secure as on a bridge, now freeze no more;
And countries, that were buried deep with snow,
Through all the year, and uninhabited,
Now yield the olive, and the purple grape.
Astronomers once thought the equator's plane
Approached the ecliptic's, in the lapse of time;
And, should they coincide, perpetual Spring
Would come. Changes as great, Geology
Has proved the earth to have seen. That tropic
Plants, and animals have lived, and flourished, here
In our Northern clime. That once the Mammouth
Roamed Siberia's plains, and in the frozen
North abundant pasturage found. Here forests
Grew of other leaf, and fruits; here other
Flowers. Pleased with the thought my fancy sees
The tropic's vegetation rise around!
Where now the spreading oak, the palm upsprings;
The apple for the olive is exchanged;
The golden orange through the dark leaves glows,
Where now the hardy pine alone will live.
For scraggy briar, the fragrant myrtle
By the roadside blooms. Delicate flowers,
That household care alone can now make live,
Bloom wild throughout the year; fearing no blast,
Or cruel frost to nip their tender leaves.
Thus over all the earth, from month to month,
Bland gales shall blow, and birds continual sing;
No sudden tempest lash the sea to foam,
Nor shall the earth with sudden tremor shake.
All nature then will be at peace, to which
E'en now by slow degrees she tends. Alas!
When Nature thus improves upon herself,
By God's decree, that man should retrograde;
Unfit himself for that new earth and sky,
Which with revolving seasons hastens on.
Now fair his promise, and he seems to tend
Like nature to a new-born, heavenly Spring
Of endless happiness, and peace, and love;
But soon his passions like a whirlwind rise,
Fierce hate and wrath hide the mild-beaming sun,
And snatch the pleasing prospect from our view,
And nought is left but hope to light our path.