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TO THE SPRING. 



Solvitur acris hyems grata vice Veris et Favonl. 



Horat. 

 " The birds, in new leaves shrouded, sung aloft, 

 And o'er the level seas spring's healing airs blew soft/' 



Bowles's Hope. 



And hail, too, thou blithe and thou green-budding 



Spring I 

 May the Birds on thy branches continue to sing ; 

 May thy groves and thy meadows with beauty be 



crown'd ; 

 And may plenty, content, 'midst thy dwellings abound; 

 With Thee, Truth and Nature, may rapture e'er 



dwell, 

 While echo, in bird notes, is heard in the dell ; 

 And the song of the plough-boy, all buoyant with hope, 

 Descend in soft cadence from upland or slope. 

 May man, far remov'd from the city and strife, 

 Possess, and with Thee, a refind rural life. 

 May thy roses e'er blossom — thy pleasures ne'er fade. 

 And love e'er enjoy the delights of thy shade ! 

 Then hail, thou blithe, bright, and thou redolent 



Spring ! 

 May the Birds on thy branches for ever still sing! 



END THE FIRST PART. 



