COME, gentle Spring, ethereal mildness, come, And from the bosom of yon dropping cloud, While music wakes around, veil'd in a show'r Of shadowing roses, on our plains descend.

O Hartford, fitted or to shine in courts With unaffected grace, or walk the plain With innocence and meditation join'd In soft assemblage, listen to my song, Which thy own seasou paints; when nature all Is blooming and benevolent, like thee.

And see where surly Winter passes off, Far to the north, and calls his ruffian blasts: His blasts obey, and quit the howling hill, The shattered forest, and the ravag'd vale : While softer gales succeed, at whose kind touch, 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, Chills the pale morn, and bids his driving sleets Deform the day delightless; so that scarce The bittern knows his time, with bill ingulpht To shake the sounding marsh, or from the shore,

The plovers when to scatter o'er the heath, And sing their wild notes to the list'ning waste. At last from Aries rolls the bounteous Sun, And the bright Bull receives him. Then no

more

Th'expansive atmosphere is cramp'd with cold;
But, full of life and vivifying soul,.
Lifts the light clouds sublime, and spreads
them thin,

Fleecy and white o'er all-surrounding heav'n.
Forth fly the tepid airs; and unconfin'd,
Uubinding earth, the moving softness strays.
Joyous, th' impatient husbandman perceives
Relenting nature, and his lusty steers
Drives from their stalls, to where the well-us'd
plough

Lies in the furrow, loosen'd from the frost.
There, unrefusing, to the harness'd yoke
They lend their shoulder, and begin their toil,

Cheer'd by the simple song, and soaring lark. Meanwhile incumbent o'er the shining share The master leans, removes th' obstructing clay, Winds the whole work, and side-long lays the glebe.

While thro' the neighbouring fields the sower

stalks,

With measur'd step; and lib'ral throws the grain

Into the faithful bosom of the ground:
The harrow follows harsh, and shuts the scene.

Be gracious, Heav'n; for now laborious man
Has done his part. Ye fost'ring breezes, blow!
Ye soft'ning dews, ye tender show'rs, descend!
And temper all, thou world-reviving sun,
Into the perfect year! Nor ye who live
In luxury and ease, in pomp and pride,
Think these lost themes unworthy of your ear;
Such themes as these the rural Maro sung
To wide imperial Rome, in the full height
Of elegance and taste, by Greece refin'd.
In ancient times, the sacred plough employ'd
The kings and awful fathers of mankind:
And some with whom compar'd your insect
tribes

Are but the beings of a summer's day,
Have held the scale of empire, rui'd the storm
Of mighty war; then, with victorious hand,
Disdaining little delicacies, seiz'd
The plough, and greatly independent liv'd.

Ye generous Britons, venerate the plough;
And o'er your hills, and long-withdrawing vales,
Let Autumn spread his treasures to the sun,
Luxuriant and unbounded! As the sea
Far through his azure turbulent domain
Your empire owns, and from a thousand shores
Wafts all the pomp of life into your ports;
So with the superior boon may your rich soil
Exuberant, nature's better blessings pour
O'er ev'ry land, the naked nations clothe,
And be th' exhaustless granary of a world!

Nor only through the lénient air this change Delicious, breathes: the penetrative sun,

His force deep-daiting to the dark retreat
Of vegetation, sets the steaming pow'r
At large, to wander o'er the verdant earth,
lu various hues; but chiefly thee, gay green!
Thou smiling nature's universal robe!
United light and shade! where the sight dwells
With growing strength, and ever-new delight.
From the moist meadow to the wither'd hill,
Led by the breeze, the vivid verdure runs,
And swells, and deepens, to the cherish'd eye.
The hawthorn whitens, and the juicy groves
Put forth their buds, unfolding by degrees,
Till the whole leafy forest stands display'd,
In full luxuriance, to the sighing gales;

Of pepper, fatal to the frosty tribe:
Or, when th' envenom'd leaf begins to curl,
With sprinkled water drowns them in their
nest;

Nor, while they pick them up with busy bill,
The little trooping birds unwisely scares.

Be patient, swains: these cruel-seeming

winds

Blow not in vain. Far hence they keep repress'd

Those deep'ning clouds on clouds surcharg'd with rain

That, o'er the vast Atlantic hither borne In endless train, would quench the summer blaze,

brake,

And the birds sing conceal'd. At once, array'd
In all the colours of the flushing year,
By nature's swift and secret-working hand,
The garden glows, and fills the liberal air
With lavish fragrance; while the promis'd fruit
Lies yet a little embryo, unperceiv'd,
Within its crimson folds. Now from the town,
Buried in smoke, and sleep, and noisome
damps,

Oft let me wander o'er the dewy fields,
Where freshness breathes and dash the trem-
bling drops

year.

[up

At first a dusky wreath they seem to rise, Scarce staining ether; but by swift degrees, In heaps on heaps, the doubling vapour sails Along the loaded sky; and mingling deep, Sits on th' horizon round a settled gloom: Not such as wintry storms on mortals shed,

Joyless and dead, a wide-dejected waste.
For oft, engender'd by the hazy north,
Myriads on myriads, insect armies warp
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 sacred sons of vengeance; on whose course
Corrosive famine waits, and kills the year.
To check this plague, the skilful farmer chaff
And blazing straw before his orchard burns;
Till, all involved in smoke, the latent foe
From ev'ry cranny suffocated falls:
Or scatters o'er the blooms the pangent dust

And full of ev'ry hope and ev'ry joy;
The wish of nature. Gradual sinks the breeze
Into a perfect calm; that not a breath
Is heard to quiver through the closing woods,
Or rustling turn the many twinkling leaves
In glassy breadth, seem through delusive lapse
Of aspin tall. Th' uncarling floods diffus'd
Forgetful of their course. "Tis silence all,
And pleasing expectation. Herds and flocks
Drop the dry sprig, aud, mute imploring, eye
The plumy people streak their wings with oil,
The falling verdure. Hush'd in short suspense,
To throw the lucid moisture trickling off;
And wait th' approaching sign to strike, at

once,

Into the general choir. E'en mountains, vales,
And forests seem, impatient, to demand
The promis'd sweetness. Man superior walks
Amid the glad creation, musing praise,
The clouds consign their treasures to the fields;
And looking lively gratitude. At last,
And, softly shaking on the dimpled pool
Prelusive drops, let all their moisture flow
In large effusion, o'er the freshen'd world.
The stealing show'r is scarce to patter heard,
By such as wander through the forest-walks,
Beneath th' umbrageous multitude of leaves.
But who can hold the shade, while heav'n
descends

In universal bounty, shedding herbs,