SPRING, A SONG OF GRATITUDE. 25.3 



For the Bee. 

 Spring, a Song of Gratitude. 



Th: earth is thine. Oh Lord, and the fuliiefs thereof. 

 Awake ! awake ! my infant fong. 



And hail the vernal bloom, 

 The opening bud fo fw-tet and young, 

 The painted heaths perfume. 



The lily burfting on the plain, 



The birds on every fpray. 

 The genial glow return'd ag^iln. 



With Sol's returning ray. 



Oh infpiration, come divine ! 



Exalt my foul to fing. 

 Of him who made thefe bleffings mine, 



Hinifelf all nature's king. 



From him the earth receiv'd its dew. 



From him the fun his heat. 

 The flcy its mild ccleftial blue, 



The grove its calm retreat. 



The fylvan fhade, the broomy hill, 

 Refound with grateful note 

 , Of black-Mrds fonorous pipe fo flirill. 

 And thrufli's mellower throat. 



The lark, dear trembler of the morn, 



AfTumes the way to heav'n ; 

 The linnet perches on the thorn; 



From all fome tribute's giv'n. 



'J'he lambkin frolics on the mead. 



In wanton gambols gay; 

 ^e mother pleas'd, befide it feeds. 



Or joins in kindred play. 



Nature infpires the varied lay. 



Invites the varied fong ; 

 Rcafon inftruds me to obey. 



And join the grateful throng. 



With native hearts they blefs the fun, 



/'// blefs its maker's hand. 

 Who, e'er revolving time began, 



All nature did command. Majca . 



