Maria, come! Now let us rove, Now gather garlands in the grove, Of every new-fprung flower; We'll hear the warblings of the wood, O come Thou, fairer than the bud Unfolding in a shower! Fair as the lily of the vale, That gives its bosom to the gale And opens in the Sun; And sweeter than thy favourite dove, Announcing to the choirs of love Now, Now, now, thy Spring of Life appears; And May of Beauty crown'd: Now vernal visions meet thine eyes, And brighter days in better skies Now, now's the morning of thy day; And youth is on the wing; 'Tis Nature's voice, "O pull the rose, What What youth, high-favour'd of the skies, That Nature has in store? Whose confcious eyes shall meet with thine; Who, ravish'd with thy charms divine, Not happier the Primæval Pair, When new-made earth, fupremely fair, Smiled on her virgin Spring; When all was fair to God's own eye, When stars consenting sung on high, And all Heaven's Chorus made the sky With Hallellujahs ring. Devoted Devoted to the Muses' choir, I tune the Caledonian lyre To themes of high renown :No other theme than You I'll chuse, Than You invoke no other Muse; Nor will that gentle hand refuse Thy Bard with bays to crown, Where hills by storied streams afcend, My dreams and waking wishes tend Where Fairy fingers curl the grove, Alone Inamour'd with the love Of Nature and of You! SONG. TH THE day is departed, and round from the cloud The voice of the Nightingale warbles aloud Maria, appear! now the season so sweet I cannot when present unfold what I feel, Her name to the shepherds I never reveal, |