ONTHE SPRING.

ONTHE SPRING.

NOWwinter, reluctant, the swayResigns to the genial spring;Sol sheds an enlivening ray,And warblers delightfully sing.Fresh verdure adorns the gay plains,So lately o’er-mantl’d with snow;The rivers, releas’d from their chains,Do now with soft murmuring flow.The lark and the linnet unite,The Cuckow too joins in the lay;All nature’s profuse of delight,And soft fanning zephyrs now play.How charming the garden appears?Sweet primroses paint the gay vale:Its head now the daffodil rears,The sweetest of seasons to hail,His team now the hind drives along;Quite cheerful he ploughs the rude plain.He hums his love’s praise in a song,Or whistling forgets her disdain.The seed in the furrow he throws,Indulg’d by bright Phœbus’s rays;Rich Ceres vast increase bestows,When Autumn her bounty displays.The lambkins now sport on the mead;They skip round the heath-cover’d hill;Their dams how securely they feedBy the side of yon murm’ring rill?Near Damon appears with his lute,And wakes the melodious lay;The songsters, attentive and mute,Are perch’d on the wav’ring spray.As Phillis traverses the grove,All nature more charming appears:Leander’s soft stories of love,Still touchingly sound in her ears.They hand in hand trip o’er the plain;No couple more cheerful and gay:She counts him the loveliest swain;He calls her the Queen of the May.Of each others hearts they are sure;The arts of no rival they dread.From minds so unsulli’d and pure,No treachery e’er can proceed.Few princes partake of such joys,Remov’d from all faction and strife:Sure riches and honours are toys,But their’s the endearments of life.

NOWwinter, reluctant, the swayResigns to the genial spring;Sol sheds an enlivening ray,And warblers delightfully sing.Fresh verdure adorns the gay plains,So lately o’er-mantl’d with snow;The rivers, releas’d from their chains,Do now with soft murmuring flow.The lark and the linnet unite,The Cuckow too joins in the lay;All nature’s profuse of delight,And soft fanning zephyrs now play.How charming the garden appears?Sweet primroses paint the gay vale:Its head now the daffodil rears,The sweetest of seasons to hail,His team now the hind drives along;Quite cheerful he ploughs the rude plain.He hums his love’s praise in a song,Or whistling forgets her disdain.The seed in the furrow he throws,Indulg’d by bright Phœbus’s rays;Rich Ceres vast increase bestows,When Autumn her bounty displays.The lambkins now sport on the mead;They skip round the heath-cover’d hill;Their dams how securely they feedBy the side of yon murm’ring rill?Near Damon appears with his lute,And wakes the melodious lay;The songsters, attentive and mute,Are perch’d on the wav’ring spray.As Phillis traverses the grove,All nature more charming appears:Leander’s soft stories of love,Still touchingly sound in her ears.They hand in hand trip o’er the plain;No couple more cheerful and gay:She counts him the loveliest swain;He calls her the Queen of the May.Of each others hearts they are sure;The arts of no rival they dread.From minds so unsulli’d and pure,No treachery e’er can proceed.Few princes partake of such joys,Remov’d from all faction and strife:Sure riches and honours are toys,But their’s the endearments of life.

NOWwinter, reluctant, the swayResigns to the genial spring;Sol sheds an enlivening ray,And warblers delightfully sing.

NOWwinter, reluctant, the sway

Resigns to the genial spring;

Sol sheds an enlivening ray,

And warblers delightfully sing.

Fresh verdure adorns the gay plains,So lately o’er-mantl’d with snow;The rivers, releas’d from their chains,Do now with soft murmuring flow.

Fresh verdure adorns the gay plains,

So lately o’er-mantl’d with snow;

The rivers, releas’d from their chains,

Do now with soft murmuring flow.

The lark and the linnet unite,The Cuckow too joins in the lay;All nature’s profuse of delight,And soft fanning zephyrs now play.

The lark and the linnet unite,

The Cuckow too joins in the lay;

All nature’s profuse of delight,

And soft fanning zephyrs now play.

How charming the garden appears?Sweet primroses paint the gay vale:Its head now the daffodil rears,The sweetest of seasons to hail,

How charming the garden appears?

Sweet primroses paint the gay vale:

Its head now the daffodil rears,

The sweetest of seasons to hail,

His team now the hind drives along;Quite cheerful he ploughs the rude plain.He hums his love’s praise in a song,Or whistling forgets her disdain.

His team now the hind drives along;

Quite cheerful he ploughs the rude plain.

He hums his love’s praise in a song,

Or whistling forgets her disdain.

The seed in the furrow he throws,Indulg’d by bright Phœbus’s rays;Rich Ceres vast increase bestows,When Autumn her bounty displays.

The seed in the furrow he throws,

Indulg’d by bright Phœbus’s rays;

Rich Ceres vast increase bestows,

When Autumn her bounty displays.

The lambkins now sport on the mead;They skip round the heath-cover’d hill;Their dams how securely they feedBy the side of yon murm’ring rill?

The lambkins now sport on the mead;

They skip round the heath-cover’d hill;

Their dams how securely they feed

By the side of yon murm’ring rill?

Near Damon appears with his lute,And wakes the melodious lay;The songsters, attentive and mute,Are perch’d on the wav’ring spray.

Near Damon appears with his lute,

And wakes the melodious lay;

The songsters, attentive and mute,

Are perch’d on the wav’ring spray.

As Phillis traverses the grove,All nature more charming appears:Leander’s soft stories of love,Still touchingly sound in her ears.

As Phillis traverses the grove,

All nature more charming appears:

Leander’s soft stories of love,

Still touchingly sound in her ears.

They hand in hand trip o’er the plain;No couple more cheerful and gay:She counts him the loveliest swain;He calls her the Queen of the May.

They hand in hand trip o’er the plain;

No couple more cheerful and gay:

She counts him the loveliest swain;

He calls her the Queen of the May.

Of each others hearts they are sure;The arts of no rival they dread.From minds so unsulli’d and pure,No treachery e’er can proceed.

Of each others hearts they are sure;

The arts of no rival they dread.

From minds so unsulli’d and pure,

No treachery e’er can proceed.

Few princes partake of such joys,Remov’d from all faction and strife:Sure riches and honours are toys,But their’s the endearments of life.

Few princes partake of such joys,

Remov’d from all faction and strife:

Sure riches and honours are toys,

But their’s the endearments of life.


Back to IndexNext