Part 112 (1/2)

4 The school-boy, wandering through the wood To pull the primrose gay, Starts thy curious voice to hear, And imitates the lay.

5 What time the pea puts on the bloom, Thou fli'st thy vocal vale, An annual guest in other lands, Another spring to hail.

6 Sweet bird! thy bower is ever green, Thy sky is ever clear; Thou hast no sorrow in thy song, No winter in thy year.

7 Oh, could I fly, I'd fly with thee!

We'd make with joyful wing Our annual visit o'er the globe, Attendants on the spring.

ELEGY, WRITTEN IN SPRING.

1 'Tis past: the North has spent his rage; Stern Winter now resigns the lengthening day; The stormy howlings of the winds a.s.suage, And warm o'er ether western breezes play.

2 Of genial heat and cheerful light the source, From southern climes, beneath another sky, The sun, returning, wheels his golden course: Before his beams all noxious vapours fly.

3 Far to the North grim Winter draws his train, To his own clime, to Zembla's frozen sh.o.r.e; Where, throned on ice, he holds eternal reign, Where whirlwinds madden, and where tempests roar.

4 Loosed from the bonds of frost, the verdant ground Again puts on her robe of cheerful green, Again puts forth her flowers, and all around, Smiling, the cheerful face of Spring is seen.

5 Behold! the trees new-deck their withered boughs; Their ample leaves, the hospitable plane, The taper elm, and lofty ash disclose; The blooming hawthorn variegates the scene.

6 The lily of the vale, of flowers the queen, Puts on the robe she neither sewed nor spun: The birds on ground, or on the branches green, Hop to and fro, and glitter in the sun.

7 Soon as o'er eastern hills the morning peers, From her low nest the tufted lark upsprings; And cheerful singing, up the air she steers; Still high she mounts, still loud and sweet she sings.

8 On the green furze, clothed o'er with golden blooms That fill the air with fragrance all around, The linnet sits, and tricks his glossy plumes, While o'er the wild his broken notes resound.

9 While the sun journeys down the western sky, Along the green sward, marked with Roman mound, Beneath the blithesome shepherd's watchful eye, The cheerful lambkins dance and frisk around.

10 Now is the time for those who wisdom love, Who love to walk in Virtue's flowery road, Along the lovely paths of Spring to rove, And follow Nature up to Nature's G.o.d.

11 Thus Zoroaster studied Nature's laws; Thus Socrates, the wisest of mankind; Thus heaven-taught Plato traced the Almighty cause, And left the wondering mult.i.tude behind.

12 Thus Ashley gathered academic bays; Thus gentle Thomson, as the seasons roll, Taught them to sing the great Creator's praise, And bear their poet's name from pole to pole.

13 Thus have I walked along the dewy lawn; My frequent foot the blooming wild hath worn: Before the lark I've sung the beauteous dawn, And gathered health from all the gales of morn.

14 And even when Winter chilled the aged year, I wandered lonely o'er the h.o.a.ry plain: Though frosty Boreas warned me to forbear, Boreas, with all his tempests, warned in vain.

15 Then sleep my nights, and quiet blessed my days; I feared no loss, my mind was all my store; No anxious wishes e'er disturbed my ease; Heaven gave content and health--I asked no more.

16 Now Spring returns: but not to me returns The vernal joy my better years have known; Dim in my breast life's dying taper burns, And all the joys of life with health are flown.

17 Starting and s.h.i.+vering in the inconstant wind, Meagre and pale, the ghost of what I was, Beneath some blasted tree I lie reclined, And count the silent moments as they pa.s.s:

18 The winged moments, whose unstaying speed No art can stop, or in their course arrest; Whose flight shall shortly count me with the dead, And lay me down at peace with them at rest.

19 Oft morning-dreams presage approaching fate; And morning-dreams, as poets tell, are true.

Led by pale ghosts, I enter Death's dark gate, And bid the realms of light and life adieu.