Page:Cyder - a poem in two books (1708).djvu/60

BOOK II. O let me now, when the kind early Dew Unlocks th' embosom'd Odors, walk among The well rang'd Files of Trees, whose full-ag'd Store Diffuse Ambrosial Steams, than Myrrh, or Nard More grateful, or perfuming flow'ry Beane! Soft whisp'ring Airs, and the Larks mattin Song Then woo to musing, and becalm the Mind Perplex'd with irksome Thoughts. Thrice happy time, Best Portion of the various Year, in which Nature rejoyceth, smiling on her Works Lovely, to full Perfection wrought! but ah, Short are our Joys, and neighb'ring Griefs disturb Our pleasant Hours. Inclement Winter dwells Contiguous; forthwith frosty Blasts deface The blithsome Year: Trees of their shrivel'd Fruits Are widow'd, dreery Storms o'er all prevail. Now, now's the time; e'er hasty Suns forbid To work, disburthen thou thy sapless Wood Rh