Зображення сторінки
PDF
ePub

SPRING.

MADAM,

TO THE RIGHT HONOURABLE

THE COUNTESS OF HERTFORD.

I HAVE always observed that, in addresses of this nature, the general taste of the world demands ingenious turns of wit, and disguised artful periods, instead of an open sincerity of sentiment flowing in a plain expression. From what secret impatience of the justest praise, when bestowed on others, this often proceeds, rather than a pretended delicacy, is beyond my purpose here to inquire. But as nothing more foreign to the disposition of a soul sincerely pleased with the contemplation of what is beautiful and excellent, than wit and turn; I have too much respect for your ladyship's character, either to touch it in that gay, trifling manner, or venture on a particular detail of those truly amiable qualities of which it is composed. A mind exalted, pure, and elegant, a heart overflowing with humanity, and the whole train of virtues thence derived, that give a pleasing spirit to conversation, an engaging simplicity to the manners, and form the life to harmony, are rather to be felt, and silently admired, than expressed. I have attempted, in the following poem, to paint some of the most tender beauties and delicate appearances of nature; how much in vain, your ladyship's taste will, I am afraid, but too soon discover: yet would it still be a much easier task to find expression for all that variety of colour, form, and fragrance, which enrich the season I describe, than to speak the many nameless graces and

native riches of a mind capable so much at once to relish solitude, and adorn society. To whom, then, could these sheets be more properly inscribed than to you, Madam, whose influence in the world can give them the protection they want, while your fine imagination, and intimate acquaintance with rural nature, will recommend them with the greatest advantage to your favourable notice? Happy, if I have hit any of those images and correspondent sentiments your calm evening walks, in the most delightful retirement, have oft inspired. I could add, too, that as this poem grew up under your encouragement, it has therefore a natural claim to your patronage. Should you read it with approbation, its music shall not droop; and should it have the good fortune to deserve your smiles, its roses shall not wither.

But, where the subject is so tempting, lest I begin my poem before the Dedication is ended, I here break short, and beg leave to subscribe myself, with the highest respect, Madam,

Your most obedient, humble servant,

JAMES THOMSON.

[ocr errors][ocr errors][merged small][merged small]
[merged small][ocr errors][ocr errors][ocr errors]

esper

THE ARGUMENT.

The subject proposed-Inscribed to the Countess of Hertford-The Season is described as it affects the various parts of Nature, ascending from the lower to the higher; and mixed with digressions arising from the subject-Its influence on inanimate Matter, on Vegetables, on brute Animals, and, last, on Man; concluding with a dissuasive from the wild and irregular passion of Love, opposed to that of a pure and happy kind.

Et nunc omnis ager, nunc omnis parturit arbos;
Nunc frondent silvæ, nunc formosissimus annus.

VIRGILII Bucol. eel. iii. 56.

COME, gentle Spring, ethereal Mildness, come;
And from the bosom of yon dropping cloud,
While music wakes around, veil'd in a shower
Of shadowing roses, on our plains descend.
0 HERTFORD, fitted or to shine in courts
With unaffected grace, or walk the plain
With innocence and meditation join'd
In soft assemblage, listen to my song,
Which thy own Season paints; when Nature all
Is blooming and benevolent, like thee.
And see where surly Winter passes off,

Far to the north, and calls his ruffian blasts:
His blasts obey, and quit the howling hill,
The shatter'd forest, and the ravaged vale;
While softer gales succeed, at whose kind touch,
Dissolving snows in livid torrents lost,
The mountains lift their green heads to the sky.
As yet the trembling year is unconfirm'd,
And Winter oft at eve resumes the breeze,
Chills the pale morn, and bids his driving sleets
Deform the day delightless: so that scarce
The bittern knows his time, with bill engulf'd,
To shake the sounding marsh; or, from the shore,
The plovers, when to scatter o'er the heath,
And sing their wild notes to the listening waste.

[blocks in formation]

At last from Aries rolls the bounteous sun,

And the bright Bull receives him. Then no more
The' expansive atmosphere is cramp'd with cold;
But, full of life and vivifying soul,

Lifts the light clouds sublime, and spreads them thin, 30
Fleecy and white, o'er all-surrounding heaven.

Forth fly the tepid airs; and unconfined,
Unbinding earth, the moving softness strays.
Joyous, the' impatient husbandman perceives
Relenting Nature, and his lusty steers

Drives from their stalls, to where the well-used plough
Lies in the furrow, loosen'd from the frost.

35

There, unrefusing, to the harness'd yoke

They lend their shoulder, and begin their toil,
Cheer'd by the simple song and soaring lark.
Meanwhile incumbent o'er the shining share
The master leans, removes the' obstructing clay,

40

Winds the whole work, and sidelong lays the glebe.

White through the neighbouring fields the sower stalks,
With measured step; and liberal throws the grain
Into the faithful bosom of the ground:
The harrow follows harsh, and shuts the scene.

Be gracious, Heaven! for now laborious Man
Has done his part. Ye fostering breezes, blow!
Ye softening dews, ye tender showers, descend !
And temper all, thou world-reviving sun,
Into the perfect year! Nor ye who live
In luxury and ease, in pomp and pride,

Think these lost themes unworthy of your ear:
Such themes as these the rural Maro sung
To wide-imperial Rome, in the full height
Of elegance and taste, by Greece refined.

45

50

55

In ancient times, the sacred plough employ'd

The kings and awful fathers of mankind:

And some, with whom compared your insect-tribes
Are but the beings of a summer's day,

60

*

Have held the scale of empire, ruled the storm
Of mighty war; then, with victorious hand,
Disdaining little delicacies, seized

The plough, and, greatly independent, scorn'd
All the vile stores Corruption can bestow.
Ye generous Britons, venerate the plough;

65

* "Unwearied" is the reading of editions subsequent to that of 1746.

« НазадПродовжити »