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But trees and rivulets, whose rapid course
What prodigies can pow'r divine perform More grand than it produces year by year, And all in sight of inattentive man? Familiar with the effect we slight the cause, And in the constancy of nature's course, The regular return of genial months, And renovation of a faded world, See nought to wonder at. Should God again, As once in Gibeon, interrupt the race Of the undeviating and punctual sun, How would the World admire! but speaks it less An agency divine, to make him know His moment when to sink and when to rise,
than to arrest his course?
that mov'd, While summer was, the pure
and subtle lymph Through th' imperceptible meand'ring veins Of leaf and flow'r? It sleeps; and th' icy touch Of unprolific winter has impress'd A cold stagnation on th' intestine tide. But let the months go round, a few short months, And all shall be restor'd. These naked shoots, Barren as lances, among which the wind Makes wintry music, sighing as it goes, Shall put their graceful foliage on again, And more aspiring, and with ampler spread, Shall boast new charms, and more than they have
* The Guelder-rose.
And throwing up into the darkest gloom
yew, Her silver globes, light as the foamy surf, That the wind severs from the broken wave; The lilac, various in array, now white, Now sanguine, and her beauteous head now set With purple spikes pyramidal, as if Studious of ornament, yet unresolv'd Which hue she most approv’d, she chose them all; Copious of flow'rs the woodbine, pale and wan, But well compensating her sickly looks With never-cloying odours, early and late; Hypericum all bloom, so thick a swarm Of flow'rs, like flies clothing her slender rods, That scarce a leaf appears; mezereon too, Though leafless, well attir'd, and thick beset With blushing wreaths, investing ev'ry spray; Althæa with the purple eye; the broom, Yellow and bright, as bullion unalloy'd, Her blossoms; and luxuriant above all The jasmine, throwing wide her elegant sweets, The deep dark green of whose unvarnish'd leaf Makes more conspicuous, and illumines more. The bright profusion of her scatter'd stars.These have been, and these shall be in their day;
And all this uniform uncolour'd scene
not pass, And blunts his pointed fury; in it's case, Russet and rude, folds up the tender germe, Uninjur'd, with inimitable art; And, ere one flow'ry season fades and dies, Designs the blooming wonders of the next.
Some say that in the origin of things, When all creation started into birth, The infant elements receiv'd a law,
From which they swerve not since. That under force