Lyric Poems Made in Imitation of the Italians. Of which, many are Translations From other Languages ... By Philip Ayres |
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Commends the SPRING.
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 | Lyric Poems |  |
118
Commends the SPRING.
A Paraphrase on an Idyllium of BION.
CLEODEMUS and MYRSON.
[_]
Speakers' names have been abbreviated in this text. The abbreviations used for major characters are as follows:
- For Cleo. read Cleodemus
- For Myr. read Myrson
Which Season, Myrson, does most Pleasure bring
The Summer, Autumn, Winter, or the Spring
Does not the SUMMER? When the Joyful Swain
Pays Ceres Rights, and fills his Barns with Grain.
Or is the AUTUMN best in your Esteem?
That drives no Shepherd to the distant Stream
To quench his Thirst: Or wanting common Food,
To range for Nuts and Acorns in the Wood.
For then our Vines their Nectar Juice afford:
And Orchards with Ambrosian Fruits are stor'd.
Or can you the Cold WINTER more admire?
When Frost and Snow confine you to the Fire,
With Wine and Feasting, Musick and Delights,
And pleasant Tales, to shorten tedious Nights.
Or give you for the Flowry SPRING your Voice?
Pray tell me, for I long to hear your Choice.
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SINCE God at first (as we from Poets hear.)
Distinguish'd these Four Seasons of the Year,
Sacred to Deities, to whom we bow,
Our Judgment of them they will scarce allow.
Yet, Cleodemus, answ'ring your Request,
I'll tell my Thoughts, which I esteem the best.
SUMMER offends, when Sol with fiercest Ray,
On my tir'd Limbs, does Fainting Heats convey:
And me as little can moist AUTUMN please,
Engendring Fogs, That Season's all Disease;
Such less could I delight in WINTER's Snow,
Its Nipping Frosts, or Tempests when they blow.
But, Oh, the SPRING! Whose Name delights the Ear.
Would a Continual Spring were all the Year.
If th' others brought no Damage, yet the Spring
With purer Air, makes Birds in Concert sing.
It cloaths our Fields, our Gardens, and our Bowers,
In Fresh Array, adorn'd with various Flowers.
It makes the Fruitful Earth, when pregnant long,
Bring forth, and kindly nurse her Tender Young.
Herds leave their Fodder, and in Pastures keep;
And Day is equal to the Time of Sleep.
120
And first gave all his Creatures Life and Birth:
Sure it was Spring, and gentle Winds did blow,
And all Earth's Products full Perfection show.
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