Classic Poem

N OW gloomy winter's fled —
Advancing in its stead,
See! summer comes with gay refulgent mein;
Her radiant smiles dispense
Delight to every sense,
Chear ev'ry heart, and brighten every scene:
Unnumber'd herbs, and fruits, and flowers appear,
And vast profusion fills the rising year.

But first the fragrant spring,
With odoriferous wing,
Balmy perfumes has wafted thro' the grove;
The tuneful feather'd throng,
In soft melodious song,
Revive their fond harmonious notes of love;
In melting strains their warbling skill display,
To hail th' approach of nature's holiday.

And now the unwearied sun
His annual race has run,
With eager toil to Cancer's sultry sign;
And vertical his beams,
O'er meadows, rocks, and streams,
Mountains and vales, with scorching influence shine;
The flocks and herds to woods and groves retreat,
To screen them from his fierce meridian heat.

Leaning on his crook,
By the murmuring brook,
Amid the close recesses of the grove,
Damon mourns forlorn,
Cruel Daphne's scorn:
More fierce than blazing noon is helpless love!
Poor faithful Tray attends the pensive swain,
Pants with the heat, and shares his master's pain.

See! the busy bees,
Now buzzing thro' the trees,
Now sipping balmy sweets from every flower;
Their pleasing task still ply
Each with laden thigh,
Incessant toiling thro' the noon-tide hour:
Pattern of chearful industry to man,
Who need not blush t' adopt the insect's plan.

Behold yon damask rose,
Whose blushing leaves disclose
A scent more fragrant than Arabia's gale!
Drooping its withered head,
Its lovely tints are fled,
Yet, unimpair'd, its sweets perfume the vale:
Emblem, ye fair, of virtue's lasting power,
Surviving beauty's transient fading flower.

Where yon gloomy wood,
Hanging o'er the flood,
With umbrage brown diffuses pleasing dread,
Thither let me fly,
Conceal'd from every eye,
Its roaming boughs united o'er my head;
There sit secure from Sol's meridian beam,
Lull'd by the murmurs of the flowing stream.

Urania! then, inspire,
With true poetic fire,
This ardent soul that pants for noble themes;
In this romantic shade,
Descend thou heavenly maid,
My fancy prompt in visionary dreams;
Bid every thought with warmth and fervour glow,
And every line with moving softness flow.

Here, once, alarming thought,
With superstition fraught,
Th' enthuasistic Druids liv'd retir'd;
Their fabled gods t' invoke,
Beneath the spreading oak,
Amid these sympathetic glooms inspir'd;
And here, perhaps, a thousand years ago,
With mystic rites ador'd their misletoe.

In those rude barbarous times,
Replete with horrid crimes,
Torn with intestine wounds, Britannia bled;
But time, with lenient hand,
Has heal'd the favor'd land,
And wav'd the peaceful olive o'er her head:
Yet Albion's sons their native fire disclose,
And pour their vengeance on their Country's foes.

Excursive fancy roam,
Quit thy native home,
Take to distant climes thy soaring flight;
Behold the Indian toil,
Amid the burning soil,
Which hurl'd by sultry winds obstructs his sight;
See overwhelming hurricanes arise,
And learn thy happy native land to prize.

See the speckled snake,
Dart from out the brake,
And on the helpless trembling traveller seize;
Expos'd both day and night
To terror and affright,
Ah! who would wish to live in climes like these:
Then bless the kind indulgent hand of fate,
That plac'd thee in a safer happier state.

But see yon pregnant cloud
The sun's refulgence shroud,
And copious pour its liquid store of rain;
The soft descending shower
Revives each fainting flower,
Refreshing moisture chears the thirsty plain;
Again, emerging, see the orb of light,
With soften'd lustre more benignly bright.

From yon rising ground,
Opening all around,
The pleasing prospect rushes on the sight,
Liberal nature pours
Her still exhaustless stores,
To swell the human bosom with delight:
The heart beats high in gratitude to heaven,
For the munificent profusion given.

See the harmless lambs
Frisking by their dams;
Sportive and innocent they bleat and play,
Hark! with mellow note
The blackbird strains his throat,
A vocal concert bursts from every spray;
And far resounding thro' the distant vale,
Sweet philomela tells her plaintive tale.

Jocund rustics see
With mirth and merry glee,
Tumbling the fragrant wreaths of new-mown hay;
What joy the prospect yields,
Of yonder neighbouring fields,
Beneath the setting sun's resplendent ray?
There, waving ranks of yellow grain impart
Joy inexpressive to the farmer's heart.

How beauteous the sight,
Inspiring fond delight,
Of th' encircled orchard's plenteous view!
Æolus! softly blow,
Spare each tender bough,
Laden with fruit of every taste and hue,
Till bounteous autumn freely from her hoard
Crowns with variety the smiling board.

See evening now advance
O'er all the blue expanse,
Inimitable colours scatter'd lie;
Carnation, purple, green,
With various hues are seen,
And burnish'd gold adorns the western sky;
The clouds like alabaster rocks appear,
And pile on pile a lofty fabric rear.

Hail universal Lord,
Whose mighty sovereign word
Gave the progressive rolling seasons birth;
Who feels for all that lives,
And ever bounteous gives
Prolific plenty from the teeming earth;
Teach me to prize thy blessings as I ought,
And dedicate to Thee the springs of thought.