Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, ON MAY MORNING, TO A LADY, by THOMAS WARTON THE ELDER



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Classic and Contemporary Poetry

ON MAY MORNING, TO A LADY, by                     Poet's Biography
First Line: Winter no more the weeping fields deforms
Last Line: And in their bosoms feel another spring.
Subject(s): Forests; May (month); Morning; Nature; Nymphs; Praise; Solitude; Spring; Woods; Loneliness


WINTER no more the weeping Fields deforms,
Pours the deep Snow-drift, or descends in Storms,
But rural Music wakes the blithsome Spring,
And every Wood invites to love and sing;
See in yon' Bow'r the Goddess' Self appears,
A Rose-bud Garland on her Locks she wears,
And on her Wrist two cooing Turtles bears:

Join'd Hand in Hand attends her Sister May,
Simple, yet fair; and tho' not wanton, gay;
Behind a Train of Nymphs and Youths advance,
Touch the soft Lute, and join in sprightly Dance.

Hither ye City-Nymphs and Belles repair,
To sport in Freedom, and a purer Air!
Safe may ye wander thro' the cooling Wood,
Or listen to the Birds and falling Flood:
No Beau-Deceivers lurk among the Flocks,
No ruffling Winds shall dislocate your Locks;
But Peace and Innocence true Pleasures yield,
While new Vauxhalls arise in every Field.

But the light Herd of well-bred Dames disdain
The calmer Pleasures of the painted Plain;
Gay Flavia hates a Mead and purling Rill
More than a Church, Small-pox, or Mercer's Bill;
"For who, she cries, a London-Life would change,
"Pensive in solitary Woods to range;
"To walk without a Beau in some lone Vale,
"Nor Handel hear, but the sad Nightingale;
"Or sit at solemn Whist by gloomy Fires,
"With aukward Parsons, Justices, and Squires?"—

But blest with strong, unfashionable Sense,
You relish rural Ease and Innocence:
Can leave Ridotto's for an useful Book,
Or sit at Plain-work by a murm'ring Brook:
In useful Labours pass each virtuous Day,
Nor sigh for Opera, Masquerade or Play.

What Joy to view from far the sweating Steer,
The Blackbirds or the Milk-maids Song to hear;
Count budding Cowslips, or with Lambkins play,
Sing with a Nymph, or with a Shepherd stray!
Then cast thee weary on the painted Ground,
Where Hazels cast a checquer'd Shade around;
While issuing from a Bud a Bee shall come,
To bless thy Slumbers with a drowsy Hum.

But who can sleep! ten thousand Joys combin'd,
Employ the Smell, the Ear, the Eye, the Mind!
Have youthful Poets dreamt of golden Days,
When Fruits ambrosial ripen'd in their Lays,
Did Honey-streams in liquid Numbers flow,
In the rich Verse spontaneous Harvests glow?
Soon imag'd Charms, and faint Description cloys,
Fancy may paint, but Nature gives the Joys:
Who taught the Nightingale her Nest to form,
In useful Beauty, wonderful and warm?
(May no rough Rustic violate the Boughs,
Where hangs her little, mossy-circled House)
Who sent the Dam to cull the choicest Food,
Now in the Forest seeking now the Flood,
And to the hungry Young with Haste convey
The Worm untasted, or the Insect-Prey:
Who swell'd the Lilly with a pearly Dew,
Who bad gay Earth her radiant Robe renew,
The Stream in Concert with the Linnet run,
And the World smile beneath a warmer Sun?
'Tis Nature's Pow'r!—Thy all-benignant Hand
Spreads every Joy, and blesses every Land!
Grant, gentle Goddess, no corroding Care
In rankling Chains our restless Hearts ensnare;
O while around us all is Joy and Peace
Let Sorrow die, let jarring Passions cease;
So shall Mankind Thy general Praises sing,
And in their Bosoms feel another Spring.





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