Page:The Seasons - Thomson (1791).djvu/63



OME, gentle, æthereal Mildness, come; And from the bosom of yon dropping cloud, While music wakes around, veil'd in a shower Of shadowing roses, on our plains descend!

O, fitted, or to shine in courts With unaffected grace, or walk the plain With innocence and meditation join'd In soft assemblage, listen to my song, Which thy own Season paints! when Nature all Is blooming, and benevolent like thee.

see where surly passes off, Far to the north and calls his ruffian blasts: His blasts obey and quit the howling hill, The shatter'd forest, and the ravag'd vale; While softer gales succeed, at whose kind touch, Disolving snows in livid torrents lost, The mountains lift their green heads to the sky.

yet the trembling year is unconfirm'd, And oft at eve resumes the breeze, Chills the pale morn, and bids his driving sleets Deform the day delightless; so that scarce Rh