THIRD ODE 



TO 



SPRING. 



Spring! thy impatient bloom restrain, 

 Nor wake so soon thy genial pow'r, 



For deeds of death must hail thy reign, 

 And clouds of fate around thee low'r. 



Ah ! not in all thy store of charms 



Can gen'rous hearts their comfort find, 



Or lull to peace the dread alarms 



Which rack the friends of human kind. 



In vain thy balmy breath to me 



Scents with its sweets the ev'ning gale ; 



In vain the violet's charms I see, 

 Or fondly mark thy primrose pale. 



To me thy softest zephyrs breathe 

 Of sorrow's soul-distracting tone, 



To me thy most attractive wreath 



Seems ting'd with human blood alone. 



Arrest thy steps, thou source of love, 

 Thou genial friend of joy and life ! 



Let not thy smile propitious prove 



To works of carnage, scenes of strife. 



Bid Winter all his frowns recall, 

 And back his icy footsteps trace ; 



Again the soil in frost inthrall, 



And check the War-fiend's murd'rous chace. 



Ah fruitless prayer! thy hand divine 

 Must on the teeming season lead, 



And (contrast dire!) at war's red shrine 

 Must let unnumber'd victims bleed. 



anonymous. 



i^^HBH 



