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SPRING.

THE ARGUMENT.

THE SEASONS.

THE fubject propofed. Inferibed to the Countess of Hertford. The feafon is defcribed as it affects the various parts of Nature, ofcending from the lewer to the higher; with digreffions arifing from the fubject. Its influence on inanimate matter, on vegetables, on brute animals, and last on man; concluding with a diffuafive from the quild and irregular passion of Love, opposed to that of a pure and happy kind.

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O Hertford! fitted or to fhine in courts With unaffected grace, or walk the plain With innocence and meditation join'd In foft affemblage, liften to my fong, Which thy own Seafon paints; when Nature all Is blooming and benevolent, like thee.

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And fee where furly Winter paffes off, Far to the north, and calls his ruffian blatts: His blafts obey, and quit the howling hill, The fhatter'd foreft, and the ravag'd vale; While fofter gales fucceed, at whofe kind touch, Diffolving fhows in livid torrents loft, The mountains lift their green heads to the fky. As yet the trembling year is unconfirm❜d, And Winter oft at eve refumes the breeze, Chills the pale morn, and bids his driving fleets Deform the day delightlefs; fo that scarce The bittern knows his time with bill ingulpht To fhate the founding marth; or from the fhore The plovers when to fcatter o'er the heath, And fing their wild notes to the littening wafte.

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At laft from Aries rolls the bounteous Sun, 26 And the bright Bull receives him. Then no

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With measur❜d step, and lib'ral throws the grain
Into the faithful botom of the ground:
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The harrow follows harf, and fauts the scene,

Be gracious, Heaven! for now laborious man
Has done his part. Ye foftering breezes, blow !
Ye foftening dews, ye tender fhowers,
fcend!

de

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And temper all, thou world-reviving fun,
Into the perfect year. Nor ye who live
In luxury and eafe, in pomp and pride,
Think thefe loft themes unworthy of your ear:
Such themes as thefe the rural Maro fung
To wide-imperial Rome, in the full height
Of elegance and tafte, by Greece refir'd,
In ancient times, the facred plough employ❜d
The kings and awful fathers of mankind:
And fome, with whom compar'd your infect
tribes

Are but the beings of a fummer's day,
Have held the fcale of empire, rul'd the form
Of mighty war; then, with unwearied hand,
Difdaining little delicacies, feiz'd

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The plough, and greatly independent liv’d.
Ye generous Britons! venerate the plough;
And o'er your hills, and long withdrawing vales,
Let Autumn fpread his treafures to the fun,
Luxuriant and unbounded: as the fea,
Far through his azure turbulent domain,
Your empire owns, and from a thousand fores
Wafts all the pomp of life into your ports;
So with fuperior boon may your rich foil,
Exuberant, Nature's better blefings pour
O'er every land, the naked nations clothe,
And be the exhauftlefs granary of a world!
Nor only through the lenient air this change,
Delicious, breathes; the penetrative fun,
His force deep-darting to the dark retreat
Of vegetation, fets the fteaming power
At large, to wander o'er the verdant earth,
In various hues; but chiefly thee, gay Green!
Thou fmiling Nature's univerfal robe!
United light and fhade! where the fight dwells
With growing ftrength, and ever-new delight. 85
From the moift meadow to the wither'd hill,
Led by the breeze, the vivid verdure runs ;
And fwells and deepens to the cherish'd eye.
The hawthorn whitens; and the juicy groves
Put forth their buds, unfolding by degrees,

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Within its crimson folds. Now from the town,
Buried in smoke, and sleep, and noifome damps,
Oft let me wander o'er the dewy fields, [drops
Where freshness breathes, and dafh the trembling
From the bent buth, as through the verdant maze
Of Tweet briar hedges I puriue my walk;
Or tatte the finell of dairy; or afcend
Some eminence, Augufta, in thy plains,
And see the country, far diffus'd around,
One boundless bluth, one white-empurpled fhower
Of mingled bloffoms; where the raptur'd eye i 10
Hurries from joy to joy, and hid beneath
The fair profufion, yellow Autumn fpies.

If, brush'd from Russian wilds, a cutting gale
Rife not, and fcatter from his humid wings
The clammy mildew; or, dry-blowing, breathe
Untimely froft; before whole baleful blaft 115
The full-blown Spring through all her foliage
fhrinks,

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Joylefs and dead, a wide dejected waste.
For oft, engender'd by the hazy north,
Myriads on myriads, infect armies waft
Keen in the poison'd breeze; and wasteful eat,
Through buds and bark, into the blacken'd core,
Their eager way. A feeble race! yet oft
The facred fons of vengeance; on whose courfe
Corrofive famine waits, and kills the year.
To check this plague the skilful farmer chaff
And blazing straw before his orchard burns ;
Till, all involv'd in fmoke, the latent fos
From every cranny fuffocated falls:

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Or fcatters o'er the blooms the pungent duft 130
Of pepper, fatal to the frofty tribe;
Or, when th' envenom'd leaf begins to curl,
With sprinkled water drowns them in their neft;
Nor, while they pick them up with bufy bill,
The little trooping birds unwifely feares.

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Be patient, fwains; thefe cruel-feeming winds Blow not in vain. Far hence they keep reprefs'd Thofe deepening clouds on clouds, furcharg'd with That o'er the vast Atlantic, hither borne, [rain, In endless train, would quench the fummer-blaze, And, cheerlefs, drown the crude unriper'd year. The north-eaft fpends his rage; he now fhut up Within his iron cave, th' effufive fouth Warms the wide air, and o'er the void of heaven Breathes the big clouds with vernal showers diftent. At first a dufky wreath they feem to rife, Scarce ftaining æther; but by fwift degrees, In heaps on heaps, the doubling vapour fails Along the loaded fky, and mingled deep Sits on th' horizon round a fettled gloom: Not fuch as wintry-ftorms on mortals fhed, Oppreffing life; but lovely, gentle, kind, And full of every hope, and every joy, The with of Nature. Gradual finks the breeze Into a perfect calm, that not a breath

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Is heard to quiver through the clofing woods, Or rustling turn the many twinkling leaves Of afpin tall. Th' uncurling floods, diffus'd In glaffy breadth, feem, through delufive lapfe, Forgetful of their courfe 'Tis filence all, 160 And pleafing expectation. Herds and flocks Drop the dry fprig, and mute-imploring eye The falling verdure. Hufh'd in short fufpenfe The plumy people streak their wings with oil, To throw the lucid moisture trickling off, 165 And wait th' approaching fign to strike at once Into the general choir. Een mountains, vales, And forefts, feem impatient to demand The promis'd fweetnefs. Man fuperior walks Amid the glad creation, mufing praife, 170 And looking lively gratitude. At latt The clouds confign their treasures to the fields, And, foftly fhaking on the dimpled pool Prelufive drops, let all their moisture flow In large effufion o'er the freshen'd world. The ftealing fhower is fcarce to patter heard By fuch as wander thro' the foreft walks, Beneath th' umbrageous multitude of leaves. But who can hold the fharle, while Heaven defcends In univerfal bounty, fhedding herbs, 180 And fruits, and flowers, on Nature's ample lap? Swift Fancy fir'd anticipates their growth, And, while the milky nutritive diftils, Beholds the kindling country colour round.

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Thus all day long the full-diftended clouds 185 Indulge their genial ftores, and well-fhower'd Is deep enrich'd with vegetable life, [earth Till in the western sky the downward fun Looks out, effulgent, from amid the flush Of broken clouds gay-shifting to his beam. 190 The rapid radiance inftantaneous ftrikes Th' illumin'd mountain, thro' the foreft ftreams, Shakes on the floods, and in a yellow mift, Far fmoaking o'er th' interminable plain, In twinkling myriads lights the dewy gems. 195 Moift, bright, and green, the landscape laughs

around.

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Full fwell the woods, their every mufic wakes,
Mix'd in wild concert, with the warbling brooks
Increas'd, the diftant bleatings of the hills,
And hollow lows refponfive from the vales, 200
Whence blending all the fweeten'd zephyr springs:
Mean time, refracted from yon' eaftern cloud,
Beftriding earth, the grand ethereal bow
Shoots up immenfe, and every hue unfolds,
In fair proportion running from the red,
To where the violet fades into the sky.
Here, awful Newton! the diffolving clouds
Form, fronting on the fun, thy show'ry prifm,
And to the fage-inftructed eye unfold
The various twine of light, by thee disclos'd, 210
From the white mingling maze. Not fo the boy;
He wondering views the bright enchantment bend,
Delightful, o'er the radiant fields, and runs
To catch the falling glory; but, amaz'd,
Beholds th' amufive arch before him fly,
Then vanish quite away. Still night fucceeds;
A foften'd fhade, and faturated earth,
Awaits the morning-beam, to give to light,
Rais'd thro ten thousand different plaftic tubes,
The balmy treafures of the former day.

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Then spring the living herbs, profufely wild, O'er all the deep-green earth, beyond the power Of botanil to number up their tribes, Whether he fteals along the lonely dale, In filent fearch, or thro' the foreft, rank With what the dull incurious weeds account, Burtts his blind way, or climbs the mountain Fir'd by the nodding verdure of its brow. [rock, With fuch a lib'ral hand has Nature flung Their feeds abroad, blown them about in winds, Innumerous mix'd them with the nurfing mould, The moift'ning current, and prolific rain.

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But who their virtues can declare? who pierce, With vision pure, into thefe fecret ftores Of health, and life, and joy? the food of man, While yet he liv'd in innocence, and told A length of golden years, unfefh'd in blood, A ftranger to the favage arts of life, Death, rapine, carnage, furfeit, and disease; The lord, and not the tyrant, of the world. 240 The first fresh dawn then wak'd the gladden'd Of uncorrupted Man, nor blush'd to fee The fluggard fleep beneath its facred beam: For their light flumbers gently fum'd away, And up they rofe as vig'rous as the fun, Or to the culture of the willing glebe, Or to the cheerful 'tendance of the flock. Mean time the fong went round; and dance and fport,

[race

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Wifdom and friendly talk, fucceflive, stole
Their hours away; while in the rofy vale
Love breath'd his infant fighs from anguish free,
And full replete with blifs, fave the fweet pain
That, inly thrilling, but exalts it more.
Nor yet injurious act nor furly deed
Was known among thofe happy fons of Heaven,
For reafon and benevolence were law.
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Harmonious Nature, too, look'd smiling on.
Clear fhone the kies, cool'd with eternal gales,
And balmy fpirit all. The youthful Sun
Shot his best rays; and ftill the gracious clouds
Dropp'd fatnefs down, as o'er the fwelling mead
The herds and flocks commixing play'd secure.
This when, emergent from the gloomy wood,
The glaring lion faw, his horrid heart
Was meeken'd, and he join'd his fullen joy: 265
For mute held the whole in perfect peace :
Soft figli'd the Sute; the tender voice was heard,
Warbling the varied heart; the woodlands round
Apply'd their quire; and winds and waters flow'd
In confonance. Such were thofe prime of days.
But now thofe white unblemish'd manners,
whence

The fabling poets took their Golden Age,
Are found no more amid thefe iron times,
Thefe dregs of life! Now the distemper'd mind
Has loft that concord of harmonious powers 275
Which forms the foul of happinefs, and all-
Is off the poife within: the paffions all
Have burft their bounds; and Reafon, half ex-
Or impotent, or else approving, fees
The foul diforder. Senfelefs and deform'd, 280
Convulfive Anger forms at large; or, pale
And filent, fettles into fell revenge.
Bafe Envy withers at another's joy,

And hates that excellence it cannot reach.

[tina,

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Defponding Fear, of feeble fancies full,
Weak and unmanly, loofens every power.
E'en Love itself is bitterness of foul,
A penfive anguifh pining at the heart;
Or, funk to fordid int'reft, feels no more
That noble with, that never-cloy'd defire,
Which, felfish joy difdaining, feeks alone
To bless the dearer object of its flame.
Hope fickens with extravagance; and Grief,
Gf life impatient, into madnefs fwells,
Or in dead filence waftes the weeping hours. 295
Thefe, and a thousand mixt emotions more,
From ever-changing views of good and i!l,
Form'd infinitely various, vex the mind [grows
With endless ftorm; whence, deeply rankling,
The partial thought, a liftlefs unconcern, 300
Cold, and averting from our neighbour's good :
Then dark Difguft, and Hatred, winding Wiles,
Coward Deceit, and ruffian Violence :

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At last, extinct each focial feeling fell,
And joylefs Inhumanity pervades
And petrifies the heart. Nature, difturb'd,
Is deem'd vindictive, to have chang'd her course.
Hence, in old dusky time, a deluge came;
When the deep-cleft difparting orb, that arch'd
The central waters round, impetuous rush'd, 310
With univerfal burft, into the gulf,

And o'er the high-pil'd bills of fractur'd earth
Wide dafh'd the waves, in undulation vaft,
Till, from the centre to the ftreaming clouds,
A fhorelefs ocean tumbled round the globe

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The seasons fince have, with feverer fway, Opprefs'd a broken world: the Winter keen Shook forth his wafte of fnows, and Summer shot His peftilential heats. Great Spring before Green'd all the year, and fruits and bloffoms blush'd,

In focial sweetnefs, on the felf-fame bough. 321
Pure was the temperate air; and even calm
Perpetual reign'd, fave what the zephyrs bland
Breath'd o'er the blue expanfe: for then nor
ftorms

Were taught to blow nor hurricanes to rage: 325
Sound flept the waters; no fulphureous glooms
Swell'd in the sky, and fent the lightning forth;
While fickly damps, and cold autumnal fogs,
Hung not relaxing on the fprings of life.
But now of turbid elements the fport,
From clear to cloudy tofs'd, from hot to cold,
And dry to moift, with inward-eating change
Our drooping days are dwindled down to nought,
Ther period finish'd ere 'tis well begun.

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And yet the whole fome herd neglected dies,
Tho' with the pure exhilarating foul
Of nutriment and health, and vital powers,
Beyond the fearch of Art, 'tis copious bleft:
For, with hot ravine fir'd, enfanguin'd Man
Is now become the lion of the plain,
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And worfe. The wolf, who from the nightly fold
Fierce drags the bleating prey, ne'er drunk her
milk,

Nor wore her warming fleece; nor has the fteer,
At whofe ftrong cheft the deadly tiger hangs,
E'er plough'd for him. They, too, are temper'd

high,

With hunger ftung and wild neceffity,

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Nor lodges pity in their fhaggy breaft:
But Man, whom Nature form'd of milder clay,
With every kind emotion in his heart,
And taught alone to weep, while from her lap 350
She pours ten thoufand delicacies, herbs
And fruits as num'rous as the drops of rain,
Or beams that gave them birth; fhall he, fair
Form!
[heaven,
Who wears fweet fmiles, and looks erect on
F'er ftoop to mingle with the prowling herd, 355
And dip his tongue in gore? The beast of prey,
Blood-ftain'd, deferves to bleed; but ye, ye
Flocks!

What have ye done? ye peaceful People! what
To merit death? ye, who have given us milk
In lufcious ftreams, and lent us your own coat
Against the Winter's cold? And the plain ox,
That harmless, honett, guileless animal!
In what has he offended? he, whofe toil,
Patient, and ever ready, clothes the land
With all the pomp of harveft, fhall he bleed, 365
And, ftruggling, groan beneath the cruel hands
E'en of the clown he feeds? and that, perhaps,
To fwell the riot of th' autumnal feaft,
Won by his labour? Thus the feeling heart
Would tenderly fuggeft; but 'tis enough,
In this late age, advent'rous. to have touch'd
Light on the numbers of the Samian fage:
High Heaven forbids the bold prefumptuous
Whofe wifeft will has fix'd us in a state [ftrain,
That muft not yet to pure perfection rise. 375
Now, when the first foul torrent of the brooks,
Swell'd with the vernal rains, is ebb'd away,
And, whitening, down their moffy-tinctur'd
ftream

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Defcends the billowy foam, now is the time,
While yet the dark-brown water aids the guile,
To tempt the trout, The well-diffembled Hy,
The rod fine-tapering with elaftic fpring,
Suatch'd from the hoary feed the floating line,
And all thy fender wat'ry ftores prepare.
But let not on thy hook the tortyr'd worm,
Convulfive, twift in agonizing folds,
Which, by rapacious hunger fwallowed deep,
Gives, as you tear it from the bleeding breat
Of the weak, helplefs, uncomplaining wretch,
Harth pain and horror to the tender hand.

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When with his lively ray the potent fun Has pierc'd the ftreams, and rous'd the finny race, Then, iffuing chearful, to thy sport repair: Chie fhould the Western breezes curling play, And light o'er æther bear the fhadowy clouds. High to the front, this day, amid the hills And woodlands warbling round, trace up the brooks;

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The next, pursue their rocky-channel'd maze
Down to the river, in whofe ample wave
Their little Naiads love to fport at large.
Juft in the dubious point, where with the pool
Is mix'd the trembling ftream, or where it boils
Around the ftone, or from the hollow'd bauk
Reverted plays in undulating flow,

There throw, nice judging, the delufive fly, 405
And, as you lead it round in artful curve,
With eye attentive mark the fpringing game.
Straight as above the furface of the flood

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They wanton rife, or, urg'd by hunger, leap,
Then fix, with gentle twitch, the barbed hook;
Some lightly toffing to the graffy bank,
And to the fhelving fhore flow-dragging fome,
With various hand, proportion'd to their force.
If yet too young, and eafily deceiv'd,
A worthlefs prey fearce bends your pliant rod, 4+5
Him, piteous of his youth, and the short space
He has enjoy'd the vital light of Heaven,
Soft difengage, and back into the ftream
The fpeckled captive throw: but should you lure
From his dark haunt, beneath the tangled roots
Of pendant trees, the monarch of the brook, 421
Behoves you then to ply you fineft art,
Long time he, following cautious, feans the fly,
And oft' attempts to feize it, but as oft
The dimpled water fpeaks his jealous fear:
At laft, while haply o'er the fhaded fun
Paffes a cloud, he defperate takes the death
With fullen plunge at once he darts along,
Deep firuck, and runs out all the lengthen'd line,
Then feeks the fartheft ooze, the feltering weed,
The cavern'd bank, his old fecure abode,
And flies aloft, and flounces round the pool,
Indignant of the guile. With yielding hand,
That feels him ftill, yet to his furious courfe
Gives way, you, now retiring, following now,
Acrofs the ftream, exhauft his idle rage;
Till, floating broad upon his breathlefs fide,
And to his fate abandon'd, to the shore
You gayly drag your unrefifting prize.
Thus pafs the temperate hours; but when the fun
Shakes from his noon-day throne the fcattering.
clouds,

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E'en fhooting liftlefs languor thro' the deeps,
Then feek the bank where flowering elders crowd,
Where scatter'd wild the lily of the vale
Its balmy effence breathes, where cowflips han
The dewy head, where purple violets lurk, 445
With all the lowly children of the fhade;
Or lie reclin'd beneath yon' spreading afh,
Hung o'er the fteep; whence, borne on liquid
wing,

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The founding culver fhoots; or where the hawk,
High in the beetling cliff, his airy builds : 450
There let the claffic page thy fancy lead

Thro' rural fcenes, fuch as the Mantuan fwain
Paints in the matchlefs harmony of fong:
Or catch thyself the landscape, gilding fwift 455
Athwart Imagination's vivid eye :

Or by the vocal woods and waters lull'd,
And loft in lonely mufing, in the dream
Confus'd of careless folitude, where mix
Ten thoufand wandering images of things, 469
Soothe every guft of paflion into peace,
All but the fwellings of the fosten'd heart,
That waken, not difturb, the tranquil mind.
Behold yon' breathing profpect bids the Mufe
Throw all her beauty forth. But who can paint
Like Nature? Can Imagination boast,
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Amid its gay creation, hues like her's?
Or can it mix them with that matchlefs skill,
And lofe them in each other, as appears
In every bud that blows? If Fancy, then, 470
Unequal fails beneath the pleafing task,

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Ting'd with fo many colours, and whofe power,
To life approaching, may perfume my lays
With that fine oil, thofe aromatic gales,
That inexhaustive flow continual round?
Yet, tho' fuccessful, will the toil delight.
Come then, ye Virgins and ye Youths! whofe
heart's

Have felt the raptures of refining love;
And thou, Amanda, come, pride of my fong! 480
Form'd by the Graces, Loveliness itself!
Come with thofe downcaft eyes, fedate and
sweet,

Thofe looks demure, that deeply pierce the foul, Where, with the light of thoughtful reafon mix'd,

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Shines lively fancy and the feeling heart:
Oh come! and while the rofy-footed May
Steals blushing on, together let us tread
The morning-dews; and gather, in their prime,
Fresh blooming flowers, to grace the braided
hair.

And thy lov'd bofom, that improves their fweets. 490

See where the winding vale its lavish ftores Irriguous fpreads. See how the lily drinks The latent rill, fcarce oozing through the grafs, Of growth luxuriant, or the humid bank In fair profufion decks. Long let us walk Where the breeze blows from yon' extended field

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Diftracted wanders: now the bowery walk
Of covert close, where fcarce a speck of day
Falls on the lengthen'd gloom, protracted fweeps;
Now meets the bending fly; the river now
Dimpling along, the breezy ruffled lake,
The foreft darkening round, the glittering fpire,
Th' ethereal mountain, and the distant main.
But why fo far excurfive? when at hand,
Along thefe blushing borders, bright with dew,
And in yon' mingled wilderness of flowers, 525
Fair-handed Spring unbofoms every grace;
Throws out the fnow-drop and the crocus firft;

The daify, primrofe; violet, darkly blue;
And Polyanthus, of unnumber'd dies;
The yellow wallflower, ftain'd with iron brown,
And lavish ftock, that fcents the garden round:
From the foft wing of vernal breezes thed,
Anemonies; auriculas, enrich'd

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With fhining meal o'er all their velvet leaves; And full ranunculas, of glowing red. 535 Then comes the tulip race, where Beauty plays Her idle freaks; from family diffus'd To family, as flies the father-duft,` The varied colours run, and while they break On the charm'd eye, th' exulting florift marks, With fecret pride, the wonders of his hand. 540 No gradual bloom is wanting from the bud, First born of Spring, to Summer's mufky tribes: Nor hyacinths, of pureft virgin white, Low-bent, and blushing inward; nor jonquils, Of potent fragrance: nor Narciffus fair, As o'er the fabled fountain hanging ftill; Ner, broad carnations, nor gay fpotted pinks; Nor fhower'd from every bush, the damafk rofe. Infinite numbers, delicacies, fmells, 550 With hues on hues expreffion cannot paint, The breath of Nature, and her endless bloom. Hail, Source of beings! univerfal Soul Of heaven and earth! Effential Prefence, hail! To Thee I bend the knee: to Thee my thoughts Continual climby who with a mafter-hand Haft the great whole into perfection touch'd. By Thee the various vegetative tribes, Wrapt in a filmy net, and clad with leaves, Draw the live æther, and imbibe the dew: 500 By Thee difpos'd into congenial foils, Stands each attractive plant, and fucks and fwells The juicy tide, a twining mafs of tubes. At thy command the vernal fun awakes The torpid fap, detruded to the root By wintry winds, that now in fluent dance And lively fermentation mounting, fpreads All this innumerous colour'd fcene of things. As rifing from the vegetable world My theme afcends, with equal wing afcends 570 My panting Mufe! and hark! how loud the woods Invite you forth in all your gayest trim. Lend me your fong, ye Nightingales! oh! pour The mazy-running foul of Melody Into my varied verfe! while I deduce, From the first note the hollow cuckow fings, The fymphony of Spring, and touch a the me Unknown to fame, The paffion of the groves. When first the foul of Love is fent abroad Warm thro' the vital air, and on the heart Harmonious feizes, the guy troops begin, In gallant thought, to plume the painted wing, And try again the long forgotten ftrain, At first faint-warbling; but no fooner grows The foft infufion prevalent and wide, Than, all alive, at once their joy o'erflows, In mufic unconfin'd. Up fprings the lark, Shrill-voic'd and loud, the Meffenger of Morn; Ere yet the fhadows fly, he mounted fings Amid the dawning clouds, and from their haunts Calls up the tuneful nations. Every cople Deep-tangled, tree irregular, and bufh Bending with dewy moisture, o'er the heads

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