SPRING. The subject proposed. Inscribed to the Countess of Hertford. The Season is described as it affects the various parts of Nature, ascending from the lower to the higher; with digressions arising from the subject. Its influence on inanimate Matter, on Vegetables, on brute Animals, and last on Man; concluding with a dissuasive from the wild and irregular passion of Love, opposed to that of a pure and happy kind. COME, gentle SPRING, ethereal Mildness, come, O Hertford, fitted or to shine in courts 5 In soft assemblage, listen to my song, Which thy own Season paints; when Nature all 10 And see where surly WINTER passes off, Far to the north, and calls his ruffian blasts: The shatter'd forest, and the ravaged vale; While softer gales succeed, at whose kind touch, 15 Dissolving snows in livid torrents lost, The mountains lift their green heads to the sky As yet the trembling year is unconfirm'd, And Winter oft at eve resumes the breeze, 20 And sing their wild notes to the listening waste. 25 At last from Aries rolls the bounteous sun, Lifts the light clouds sublime, and spreads them thin, Fleecy, and white o'er all surrounding heaven. 31 Forth fly the tepid airs; and unconfined, Unbinding earth, the moving softness strays. Joyous, the' impatient husbandman perceives 35 Drives from their stalls, to where the well used plough They lend their shoulder, and begin their toil, 40 While thro' the neighbouring fields the sower stalks, With measured step; and liberal throws the grain 45 Into the faithful bosom of the ground: The harrow follows harsh, and shuts the scene. Be gracious, Heaven! for now laborious man To wide-imperial Rome, in the full height In ancient times, the sacred plough employ'd 50 50 55 And some, with whom compared your insect tribes 60 Are but the beings of a summer's day, Have held the scale of empire, ruled the storm Of mighty war; then, with unwearied hand, Disdaining little delicacies, seized The plough, and greatly independent lived. Ye generous Britons, venerate the plough! Nor only through the lenient air this change, Of vegetation, sets the steaming Power 80 From the moist meadow to the wither'd hill, Where the deer rustle through the twining brake, In all the colours of the flushing year, By Nature's swift and secret working hand, The garden flows, and fills the liberal air With lavish fragrance; while the promised fruit Lies yet a little embryo, unperceived, Within its crimson folds. Now from the town, 100 Buried in smoke and sleep and noisome damps, |