I. ODE ON THE SPRING. Lo! where the rosy-bosom'd Hours, The untaught harmony of spring : Where'er the oak's thick branches stretch Beside some water's rushy brink With me the Muse shall sit, and think (At ease reclin'd in rustic state) How vain the ardour of the Crowd, How low, how little are the Proud, How indigent the Great! O'ercanopied with luscious woodbine. Shakesp. Mids. Night's Dream. 5 ΙΟ 15 20 And they that creep, and they that fly, Alike the Busy and the Gay But flutter thro' life's little day, In fortune's varying colours drest : Brush'd by the hand of rough Mischance, Or chill'd by age, their airy dance Methinks I hear in accents low The sportive kind reply: Poor moralist! and what art thou? 25 30 35 40 Shew to the sun their waved coats drop'd with gold. Milton's Paradise Lost, book 7. 3 While insects from the threshold preach, etc. — M. Green, in the Grotto. Dodsley's Miscellanies, Vol. V. p. 161. Of grove, of lawn, of mead survey, Whose turf, whose shade, whose flowers among Wanders the hoary Thames along His silver-winding way. Ah happy hills, ah pleasing shade, Ah fields belov'd in vain, Where once my careless childhood stray'd, A stranger yet to pain! I feel the gales, that from ye blow, A momentary bliss bestow, As waving fresh their gladsome wing, My weary soul they seem to sooth, And, redolent 2 of joy and youth, To breathe a second spring. 1 King Henry the Sixth, Founder of the College. 2 And bees their honey redolent of spring. Dryden's Fable on the Pythag. System. 50 5 IO 15 20 |