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Time was, blest Power! when youths and maids of dawn would rise,
And wander forth, in forest glades
Thy birth to solemnize.
Though mute the song-to grace the rite
Untouched the hawthorn bough, Thy Spirit triumphs o'er the slight; Man changes, but not Thou!
Thy feathered Lieges bill and wings
Warmed by thy influence, creeping things
Awake to silent joy:
Queen art thou still for each gay plant
Cloud-piercing peak, and trackless heath,
Nor wants the dim-lit cave a wreath
Their puniest flower-pot-nursling dares
And if, on this thy natal morn,
Still from the village-green a vow
Yes! where Love nestles thou canst teach
The soul to love the more; Hearts also shall thy lessons reach
That never loved before.
Stript is the haughty one of pride,
Hush, feeble lyre! weak words refuse
His voice shall chant, in accents clear,
Throughout the live-long day,
Till the first silver star appear,
THOUGH many suns have risen and set
Delicious odours! music sweet,
That, when a thousand years are told,
Earth, sea, thy presence feel-nor less,
With its soft smile the truth express,
Partakes a livelier cheer;
And eyes that cannot but be sad
Let fall a brightened tear.
Since thy return, through days and weeks
And wayworn Wanderers, poorly fed,
Who tripping lisps a merry song
But now, when every sharp-edged blast
His Mother leaves him free to taste
Thy help is with the weed that creeps
And yet how pleased we wander forth When May is whispering, "Come! "Choose from the bowers of virgin earth "The happiest for your home;
"Heaven's bounteous love through me is spread
"From sunshine, clouds, winds, waves, "Drops on the mouldering turret's head, "And on your turf-clad graves!"
Such greeting heard, away with sighs
Vernal fruitions and desires
Are linked in endless chase; While, as one kindly growth retires, Another takes its place.
And what if thou, sweet May, hast known
If expectations newly blown
Have perished in thy sight;
If loves and joys, while up they sprung,
Were caught as in a snare;
Such is the lot of all the young,
However bright and fair.
Lo! Streams that April could not check
By thee, thee only, could be sent