Fled are the Frosts, and now the Fields appeare Re-cloth'd in fresh and verdant Diaper. Thaw'd are the snowes, and now the lusty Spring Gives to each Mead a neat enameling. The Palms put forth their Gemmes, and every Tree Now swaggers in her Leavy gallantry. The while the Daulian Minstrell sweetly sings, With warbling Notes, her Tyrrean sufferings. What gentle Winds perspire? As if here Never had been the Northern Plunderer To strip the Trees, and Fields, to their distresse, Leaving them to a pittied nakednesse. And look how when a frantick Storme doth tear A stubborn Oake, or Holme (long growing there) But lul'd to calmnesse, then succeeds a breeze That scarcely stirs the nodding leaves of Trees: So when this War (which tempest-like doth spoil Our salt, our Corn, our Honie, Wine, and Oile) Falls to a temper, and doth mildly cast His inconsiderate Frenzie off (at last) The gentle Dove may, when these turmoils cease, Bring in her Bill, once more, the Branch of Peace. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...MY FATHER'S FACE by HAYDEN CARRUTH MARY AND GABRIEL by RUPERT BROOKE LITTLE GOLDENHAIR by F. BURGE SMITH SILEX SCINTIALLANS: THEY ARE ALL GONE by HENRY VAUGHAN THE SONG OF THE DIAL by PETER AIREY PEARLS OF THE FAITH: 7. AL-MAUMIN by EDWIN ARNOLD PEARLS OF THE FAITH: 91 by EDWIN ARNOLD ON GOOD FRIDAY, THE DAY OF OUR SAVIOUR'S PASSION by PHILIP AYRES |