. Spring . ng listless languor through the seek the bank where flowering elders scattered wild the lily of the vale41 (Pje Seasons. Its balmy essence breathes, where cowslips hangThe dewy head, where purple violets lurk,With all the lowly children of the shade :Or lie reclined beneath yon spreading ash,Hung oer the steep ; whence, borne on liquid wing,The sounding culver shoots ; or where the in the beetling cliff, his eyry let the classic page thy fancy leadThrough rural scenes ; such as the Mantuan swainPaints in the matchless harmony of song;Or
. Spring . ng listless languor through the seek the bank where flowering elders scattered wild the lily of the vale41 (Pje Seasons. Its balmy essence breathes, where cowslips hangThe dewy head, where purple violets lurk,With all the lowly children of the shade :Or lie reclined beneath yon spreading ash,Hung oer the steep ; whence, borne on liquid wing,The sounding culver shoots ; or where the in the beetling cliff, his eyry let the classic page thy fancy leadThrough rural scenes ; such as the Mantuan swainPaints in the matchless harmony of song;Or catch thyself the landskip, gliding swiftAthwart imaginations vivid eye ;Or, by the vocal woods and waters lulled,And lost in lonely musing, in a dream,Confused, of careless solitude, where mixTen thousand wandering images of things,Soothe every gust of passion into peace —All but the swellings of the softened heart,That waken, not disturb, the tranquil , yon breathing prospect bids the Muse 42. Throw all her beauty forth. But who can paintLike Nature ? Can imagination boast,Amid its gay creation, hues like hers?Or can it mix them with that matchless skill,And lose them in each other, as appearsIn every bud that blows? If fancy , fails beneath the pleasing task,Ah, what shall language do? Ah. where find wordsTinged with so many colours; and whose power,To life approaching, may perfume my laysWith that fine oil, those aromatic gales,That inexhaustive flow continual round? Yet, though successless, will the toil then, ye virgins, and ye youths, whose heartsHave felt the raptures of refining love ;And thou, Amanda, come, pride of my song!Formed by the Graces, loveliness itself !Come with those downcast eyes, sedate and sweet,Those looks demure, that deeply pierce the soul — 45 2Tfjc Seasons. Where, with the light of thoughtful reason mixed,Shines lively fancy and the feeling heart:O come! and while the rosy-footed MaySteals blushing on, toget
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Keywords: ., bookcentury1800, bookdecade1890, booksubjectspring, bookyear1892
