Now turning from the wintry signs, the
sun,
His course exalted, through the Ram had
run,
And whirling up the skies, his chariot
drove
Through Taurus, and the lightsome realms
of love;
Where Venus from her orb descends in showers,
To glad the ground, and paint the fields
with flowers:
When first the tender blades of grass
appear,
And buds, that yet the blast of Eurus
fear,
Stand at the door of life, and doubt to
clothe the year:
Till gentle heat, and soft repeated rains,
10
Make the green blood to dance within their
veins:
Then, at their call, embolden’d
out they come,
And swell the gems, and burst the narrow
room;
Broader and broader yet, their blooms
display,
Salute the welcome sun, and entertain
the day.
Then from their breathing souls the sweets
repair
To scent the skies, and purge the unwholesome
air:
Joy spreads the heart, and, with a general
song,
Spring issues out, and leads the jolly
months along.
In that sweet season, as in
bed I lay, 20
And sought in sleep to pass the night
away,
I turn’d my weary side, but still
in vain,
Though full of youthful health, and void
of pain:
Cares I had none, to keep me from my rest,
For love had never enter’d in my
breast;
I wanted nothing fortune could supply,
Nor did she slumber till that hour deny.
I wonder’d then, but after found
it true,
Much joy had dried away the balmy dew:
Seas would be pools, without the brushing
air 30
To curl the waves; and sure some little
care
Should weary nature so, to make her want
repair.
When Chanticleer the second
watch had sung,
Scorning the scorner sleep, from bed I
sprung;
And dressing, by the moon, in loose array,
Pass’d out in open air, preventing
day,
And sought a goodly grove, as fancy led
my way.
Straight as a line in beauteous order
stood
Of oaks unshorn a venerable wood;
Fresh was the grass beneath, and every
tree, 40
At distance planted in a due degree,
Their branching arms in air with equal
space
Stretch’d to their neighbours with
a long embrace:
And the new leaves on every bough were
seen,
Some ruddy colour’d, some of lighter
green.
The painted birds, companions of the spring,
Hopping from spray to spray, were heard
to sing.
Both eyes and ears received a like delight,
Enchanting music, and a charming sight.
On Philomel I fix’d my whole desire,
50
And listen’d for the queen of all
the quire;
Fain would I hear her heavenly voice to
sing;
And wanted yet an omen to the spring.