

SECOND ODE 



TO 



SPRING. 





Mild Season of the infant Year! 

 Soon as thy tender buds appear, 



I feel my bosom glow; 

 It glows, to see thy germs of life, 

 Spite of each elemental strife, 



Burst through surrounding snow. 



With joy, beneath thy influence bland, 

 I mark each vernal leaf expand, 



Presageful of the bloom; 

 The livelier tint of ev'ry bow'r, 

 The daily growth of ev'ry flow'r, 



Each exquisite perfume. 



Now, grateful for the genial skies, 

 To Heaven the mingled odours rise, 



And bring it's blessings down; 

 An added vigour, ev'ry day, 

 A richer foliage, boasts each spray, 



Nor dreads the tempest's frown. 



Know, Spring! though winds tyrannic join, 

 And all the elements combine, 



Thy progress to dispute; 

 The humblest plant, by Heav'n decreed 

 To live for ever in it's seed, 



Shall never fail of fruit. 



M^M 



I^HHH 



