Page:Elegiac Sonnets The Third Edition.pdf/27

[  9    ] SONNET VIII. TO SPRING.

GAIN the wood, and long with-drawing vale,
 * In many a tint of tender green are drest,

Where the young leaves unfolding scarce conceal
 * Beneath their early shade the half-form'd nest

Of finch or wood-lark; and the primrose pale,
 * And lavish cowslip, wildly scatter'd round,

Give their sweet spirits to the sighing gale.
 * Ah! season of delight!could aught be found
 * To soothe awhile the tortur'd bosom's pain,
 * Of sorrow's rankling shaft to cure the wound,
 * And bring life's first delusions once again,

'Twere surely met in thee!Thy prospect fair, Thy sounds of harmony, thy balmy air, (l) Have power to cure all sadnessbut despair. Rh