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RURAL AND DESCRIPTIVE.
So forth issew'd Ihe seasons of the yeare:
Then came the jolly Sommer, heing dight
Then came the Aulumne, all in yellow clad,
Lastly came Winter, clothed all in frize, Chattering his teeth for cold that did him chill; Whilst on his hoary heard his hreath did frees,.-, And the dull drops that from his purpled hill As from a limheck did adown distill: In his right hand a tipped staffe he held. With which his feehle steps he stayed still; For he was faint with cold, and weak with eld; That scarse his loosed limhes he ahle was to weld.
How smiling wakes the verdant year,
Arrayed in velvet green!
That honnd the hlooming scene!
Forth walks from heav'n the heaming
Calm as the dew she sheds;
Her veil of roses spreads.
The sky serene, the waking flowers,
The river's loosen'd wave, Repay the kind and tepid hours,
With all the charms they gave.
And hark! From yon melodious grove
And into notes of joy and love,
And shall the first heloved of heaven,
Mate, listen as they sing;
Not wake one grateful string?
O let me join th' aspiring l;<y,
That gives my Maker praise; Join, hut in louder notes than they,
Than all their praises raise I
O thon, from whose all-gracious eye
The sun of splendor heams; Whose glories every ray supply,
That gilds the tremhling streams;—
O'er nature's green and teeming fields,
Bid flowery graces rise;
Salute the morning skies.
Where yonder moves the plough of toil,
Along the stuhhorn land;
And soothe the lah'ring hand.
Then hid gay frnitfulness around.
And where thy richest gifts are found,
Bright Summer heams along the sky,
Where'er we turn the raptmed eye,
Then, when so fit to lift the song
To gratitude and heav'n,
From whom those charms are given?
Thee, thee, Almighty King of kings,
Man worships not alone; Each budding flower its incense hrings,
And wafts it to thy throne.
The fields with verdant mantle gay,
All, ail around, thy praise display,
\\ hen morn with rosy fingers fair,
When fiesh'uing Zephyrs Tan the air,
Man starts from emhlematic death,
And hends the grateful knee,
New light, new life, and thee I
W hen Noon averts his radiant face,
And shnts his piercing eye;
Sieps up the western sky.—
Reposed heneath thy gnardian wings
The pious mortal rests; Nor knows one watchful care that springs
Within unholy hreasts.
What then if pealing thunriers roll,
If lightuings flash afar I Undannted hears his tranquil soul,
The elemental war.
'Tis hut to him a parent's voice,
That hlesses while it hlames; That hids unhurden'd air rejoice,
And life and health proclaims.
Night's deepest gloom is hut a calm,
The lahour'd day's restoring halm,
Fair Autumn spreads her fields of gold,
And waves her amher wand;
Beneath her.magic hand!
Uurivall' d heanty decks our vales,
Gay earth with cheerfuiness prevails,
To thee, great lih'ral source of all,
We strike our earthly lyre;
And angels form the quire.
The splendor that enchants our eyes,
The hlessings that from earth arise,
The plenty round our meadows seen,
Is emhlem of thy love;
The peace that reigns ahove.
Beneath the sickle, smiling round,
And in destruction fair,
And shuts the lahour'd year.
Man drops into refreshing rest,
With rural peace the herds are hlest,
O let thy hand, parental King,
Be opened to our pray'rs!
And show'r untainted airs.
Harr! 'twas dark Winter's sullen voice,
That hade the plains no more rejoice,
See yellow Autumn dies away;
The pallid sire is come!
And every wave is dumh!
Yet still with cheerfol heart I pace
The whiten'd vale helow;
I leave upon the suow.
Thus (soft I whisper to my hreast,)
Each step that lead's to hetter rest
For what is life and all its hliss?
The splendor of a fly;
A summer's flushing sky.
Dismantled lies the gandy fly;
The fresh-turn'd soil with tender hlades
The swallow, for a moment seen,
Fraught with a transient, fiozen shower,
Where In venerahle rows
Yet, in these presages rude,
THE LATE SPRING.
The sleepy Spring was still in hed,
When she heard the soft fall of the zephyr's
She rose in haste, not dressed in hine,
Just stuck in her hosom a snow drop or
Then away over meadow, and garden, and wood,
Her light winged courser hore her; But in her fair eyes the tear-drop stood,
To see the drear scene hefore her.
So long had the tyrant of northern hirth,
His iron reign extended,
Had well-nigh heen suspended.
The young hirds had met on St. Valentine's feast,
All eager to get married; But the sullen saint refused to he priest:
For another red day they tarried.
The crocus had pot forth its feelers green,
On hearing the peas as soon as seen,
The lilac gay, that loves to he first,
And many a hud was longing to hurst,
The fields were as hald as though they'd