" Then spring the living herbs, profusely wild, 
O’er all the deep-green earth, that task * the power 
Of botanist to number up their tribes: 
Whether he steals along the lonely dale. 
In silent search ; or through the forest, rank 
With what the dull incurious weeds account, 
Bursts his blind way; or climbs the mountain rock. 
Fir’d by the nodding verdure of its brow. 
With such a liberal hand has nature flung 
Their seeds abroad, blown them about in winds, 
Innumerous, mix’d them with the nursing mould. 
The moistening current, and prolific rain.” 
Thomson. — Spring . 
* beyond, in original. 
Baldwin, 'Printer, 
New Bridge-street, London, 
