14 FLORA. AND THALIA. 



Rise, my soul ! on wings of fire, 



Rise the rapt'rous choir among : 

 Hark ! 'tis Nature strikes the lyre, 



And leads the general song. 

 Warm let the lyric transport flow, 

 Warm as the ray that bids it glow, 

 And animates the vernal grove 

 With health, with harmony, and love. 



Yesterday, the sullen year 



Saw the snowy whirlwind fly ; 

 Mute was the music of the air, 

 The herd stood drooping by ; 

 Their raptures now that wildly flow, 

 No yesterday, nor morrow, know; 

 'Tis man alone that joy descries, 

 With forward and reverted eyes. 



See the wretch, that long has tossed 



On the thorny bed of pain, 

 At length repair his vigour lost. 

 And breathe, and walk again. 

 The meanest floweret of the vale, 

 The simplest note that swells the gale, 

 The common sun, the air, the skies, 

 To him are opening paradise. 



CHAT. 



