 | Poems on several occasions |  |
47
SPRING.
Cloath'd with content, in humble cot I sing
The rising beauties of the vernal Spring.
Now Winter's dreary countenance is fled,
And Sol's bright beams enliven Flora's head;
Now prospects pleasing fill each grateful mind,
With pious strains to Him, who has assign'd
The bounteous produce of the teeming earth,
To satisfy man's wants, and raise his mirth.
Forth from her yet chill'd bed with ardour view
The snow-drop rise, array'd in modest hue.
The golden crocus see too peeping stand,
And th'early blossom of mezerian.
All in their various order gay appear,
To celebrate this season of the year.
The rising beauties of the vernal Spring.
Now Winter's dreary countenance is fled,
And Sol's bright beams enliven Flora's head;
Now prospects pleasing fill each grateful mind,
With pious strains to Him, who has assign'd
The bounteous produce of the teeming earth,
To satisfy man's wants, and raise his mirth.
Forth from her yet chill'd bed with ardour view
The snow-drop rise, array'd in modest hue.
The golden crocus see too peeping stand,
And th'early blossom of mezerian.
All in their various order gay appear,
To celebrate this season of the year.
48
In yon environs drest in verdure gay,
See sportive lambs in frisky gambols play.
There walking with my little prattling boys,
And my lov'd Susan, partner of my joys;
Enraptur'd I beheld the rural plain,
Exulting cry'd, Oh! may I ne'er refrain
To praise that gracious Being most divine,
Great Author of those gifts which round me shine!
See sportive lambs in frisky gambols play.
There walking with my little prattling boys,
And my lov'd Susan, partner of my joys;
Enraptur'd I beheld the rural plain,
Exulting cry'd, Oh! may I ne'er refrain
To praise that gracious Being most divine,
Great Author of those gifts which round me shine!
Hark! hark! the wakeful lark's harmonious lay,
With outstretch'd wing salutes the op'ning day:
While from the woods the wild-note thrushes sing;
The tuneful blackbird's joy proclaims the Spring.
The Winter gone, the charming Spring is near,
Welcome thou fairest season of the year.
With outstretch'd wing salutes the op'ning day:
While from the woods the wild-note thrushes sing;
The tuneful blackbird's joy proclaims the Spring.
The Winter gone, the charming Spring is near,
Welcome thou fairest season of the year.
Now shoots the cowslip with redoubled pace;
Now fragrant vi'lets humble bushes grace;
Now daisy-tufts abound, with primrose pale,
While streaked tulips curious eyes regale;
Narcissus fair, and delicate jonquil,
And woodbines sweet, the air with odours fill.
Now fragrant vi'lets humble bushes grace;
Now daisy-tufts abound, with primrose pale,
While streaked tulips curious eyes regale;
49
And woodbines sweet, the air with odours fill.
See where the little Glyme delightsome flows,
And to the meads its fertile sweets disclose.
Upon her banks the charming nightingale
Fills with her warbling notes the flow'ry vale.
While all the other chanters are at rest,
What lovely strains arises from her breast.
Sweetly she sings until the dawn appear,
Rejoicing in this season of the year.
And to the meads its fertile sweets disclose.
Upon her banks the charming nightingale
Fills with her warbling notes the flow'ry vale.
While all the other chanters are at rest,
What lovely strains arises from her breast.
Sweetly she sings until the dawn appear,
Rejoicing in this season of the year.
And now the blooming youths with glee repair
Unto the fruitful fields, to take the air;
Or Marlbro's actions in rich tapst'ry view,
Which tell fam'd Blenheim justly was his due:
Or led by tales of yore to chrystal stream,
Where beauty fell a prey to Henry's dame;
While purling rills in mournful sounds repeat,
The fairest Rosamond's unhappy fate.
Unto the fruitful fields, to take the air;
Or Marlbro's actions in rich tapst'ry view,
Which tell fam'd Blenheim justly was his due:
Or led by tales of yore to chrystal stream,
Where beauty fell a prey to Henry's dame;
While purling rills in mournful sounds repeat,
The fairest Rosamond's unhappy fate.
50
Like statues fix'd, observe yon nymph and swain
At sad remembrance scarce from tears refrain;
Till rouz'd by Reason's call, “Fond youths away,
Nor spend in useless grief the chearful day;
Keep that confin'd within its proper sphere,
Congratulate this season of the year.”
At sad remembrance scarce from tears refrain;
Till rouz'd by Reason's call, “Fond youths away,
Nor spend in useless grief the chearful day;
Keep that confin'd within its proper sphere,
Congratulate this season of the year.”
And now th'industrious bee with arduous pains,
In th'hive deposits all her useful gains;
Nor aught relying on the changing clime,
The balmy sweet collects for future time,
Not so the idle, saunt'ring butterfly,
Like useless fops, they flutter, dress, and die.
In th'hive deposits all her useful gains;
Nor aught relying on the changing clime,
The balmy sweet collects for future time,
Not so the idle, saunt'ring butterfly,
Like useless fops, they flutter, dress, and die.
Wrapt up in rosy health, with untaught mien,
The jolly ploughman's at his labour seen:
In careless, whistling strain, the toil pursues,
Yet not unmindful what from thence accrues:
He knows no want, ha'nt wherewith to abound,
Contented views the seasons rolling round.
With upright heart his God he doth revere,
Which adds fresh charms to those that now appear:
May all thus well enjoy this season of the year.
The jolly ploughman's at his labour seen:
In careless, whistling strain, the toil pursues,
Yet not unmindful what from thence accrues:
He knows no want, ha'nt wherewith to abound,
Contented views the seasons rolling round.
51
Which adds fresh charms to those that now appear:
May all thus well enjoy this season of the year.
| Poems on several occasions | |