And now within my throbbing breast
I feel the influence of the Spring,
To ecstacy I tune my string,
And garlanded with odorous flowers
I hasted to the shady grove,

I hasted to the roseate bowers

Where Pleasure dwells with Love.

There Youth and Love and Beauty bound
The glowing rose my harp around,

Then to the daughter of Desire

To bright-eyed Pleasure gave the lyre,

She tuned the string

And smiling softer than the rosy sea

When the young Morning blushes on her breast,
She raised the raptured lay,

I heard her sing

The song lull'd every care and every thought to rest.

Sons of Nature hither haste,

The blessings of existence taste;

Listen to my friendly lay

And your cares shall fly away Quick as fly the wintry snows When the vernal Zephyr blows. Let others courting War's alarms Seek the bloody field of arms, Let others with undaunted soul Bid Bellona's thunders roll, From the lightnings of their eye Let the trembling squadrons fly; Sons of Nature you shall prove A softer fight, the fight of love. While you in soft repose are laid Underneath the myrtle shade, Amid the murky glooms of Death The Sons of Battle pant for breath.

Let the philosophic sage,

His silver tresses white with age,
Amid the chilling midnight damp
Waste the solitary lamp,

To scan the laws of Nature o'er
The paths of Science to explore,

Curb'd beneath his harsh controul
The blissful passions fly the soul.

You the gentler sons of Joy
Softer studies shall employ !

He to curb the passions tries
You shall bid them all arise,
His wants he wishes to destroy
You shall all your wants enjoy.
Let the Laurel, Virtue's meed
Crown his age-besilver'd head,
The verdant laurel ever grows
Amid the sullen winter's snows :
Let the Rose the flower of bliss
The soft unwrinkled temples kiss,
Fann'd by the Zephyr's balmy wing
The odorous Rose adorns the Spring.

Let the Patriot die to raise
A lasting monument of praise,
Ah fool, to tear the glowing rose
From the mirth-encircled brows,
That around his dusky tomb

The ever verdant bay may bloom!

Let Ambition's sons alone
Bow around the tottering throne,
Fly at Glory's splendid rays,

And moth-like die amidst a blaze,
You shall bow and bow alone

Before delicious Beauty's throne.

Lo! Theora treads the green,

All breathing grace and harmony she moves
Fair as the mother of the Loves.

In graceful ringlets floats her golden hair.
From the bright azure of her eye

Expression's liquid lightnings fly,
Her cheek is fair,

Fair as the Lily when at dawning day

Tinged with the morning's bright and purple ray. Yonder scented groves among

She will listen to your song,

In yonder bower where roses bloom
Where the myrtle breathes perfume,
You shall at your ease recline

And sip the soul-enlivening wine,

There the lyre with melting lay
Shall bid the soul dissolve away.
Soft as the morning sheds her purple light
Thro' the dark azure of the night,
So soft the God of Slumber sheds
His roseate dews around your heads.

Such the blessings I bestow,

Haste my Sons these blessings know!
Behold the flowrets of the Spring
They wanton in the zephyrs wing,
They drink the matin ether blue,
They sip the fragrant evening dew;
Man is but a short-lived flower,

His bloom but for a changeful hour!
Pass a little time away,

The

rosy cheek is turn'd to clay, No living joys, no transports burn

In the dark sepulcral urn,

No Laurels crown the fleshless brows,

They fade together with the Rose.

D. 1796.