lypi* poETRy. 329 



Ode on the Fkafure arifing from ViciJJittide. 



Found among the papers of the late ingenious Mr Grayy and ne- 

 ■ver printed in his nvorks. 



J\ow the golden morn aloft 

 Waves her dew-befpaagled wing ; 

 With vermir cheek, and whifper foft, 

 She wooes the tardy ipring : — 

 Till April ftarts, and calls around 

 The fleepiiig fragrance from the ground : 

 And lightly o'er the living fcene, 

 Scatters his frefiieft tendVeft green. 

 New born flocks, in ruftic dance, 

 Friflcing ply their feeble feet ; 

 Forgetful of their wint'ry trance, 

 The birds his pre fence greet. — 

 But chief the fky-lark warbles high, 

 His trembling thrilliilg extacy; 

 And lefs'ning from the dazzled fight, 

 Melts into air and liquid light. 

 Yefterday the fullen year 

 ^aw the fnowy whirlwind fly ; 

 Mute v/as the mufic of the air. 

 The herd flood drooping by: — 

 Tlieir raptures how that wildly flov.', 

 No ye'lerday or morrow know ; 

 'Tis man alon*; tliat joy clefcries, 

 With forward and reverted eyes, 

 Smiles on paft niiifortunes' brow. 

 Soft Reflection's hand can trace ; 

 And o'er tlie cheek of forrow throw 

 A melancholy grace : — 

 While hope prolongs our happier hour, 

 Or deepeft fhades, that dimly lour. 

 And blacken round our weary way, 

 Gilds with a gleam of didant day. 



\''ol. V. T t + 



