Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, THE SEASONS. IN IMITATION OF SPENSER, by MOSES MENDEZ


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Classic and Contemporary Poetry

THE SEASONS. IN IMITATION OF SPENSER, by                     Poet's Biography
First Line: The balmy cowslip gilds the smiling plain
Last Line: Yet, ah! In vain I preach—mine heart is ill at ease
Subject(s): Seasons


I.
ERE yet I sing the round-revolving Year,
And show the Toils and Pastime of the Swain,
At Alcon's Grave I drop a pious Tear;
Right well he knew to raise his learned Strain,
And, like his Milton, scorn'd the rhyming Chain.
Ah! cruel Fate, to tear him from our Eyes;
Receive this Wreath, albe the Tribute's vain,
From the green Sod may Flow'rs immortal rise,
To mark the sacred Spot where the sweet Poet lies.
II.
It is the Cuckoo that announceth SPRING,
And with his - wreakful Tale the Spouse doth fray;
Mean while the Finches harmless Ditties sing,
And hop, in buxom Youth, from Spray to Spray,
Proud as Sir Paridel, of rich Array.
The little Wantons that draw Venus' Team
Chirp am'rous thro' the Grove, in beavies gay;
And he, who erst gain'd Leda's fond Esteem,
Now sails on Thamis Tide, the Glory of the Stream!
III.
Proud as the Turkish Soldan, Chaunticleer
Sees, with Delight, his num'rous Race around;
He grants fresh Favours to each Female near;
For Love as well as Chevisaunce renown'd.
The waddling Dame that did the Gauls confound,
Her tawny Sons doth lead to Rivers cold;
While Juno's Dearling, with majestic Bound,
To charm his Leman, doth his Train unfold,
That glows with vivid Green, that flames with burning Gold.
IV.
The balmy Cowslip gilds the smiling Plain,
The virgin Snow-drop boasts her Silver Hue,
An hundred Tints the gaudy Daisy stain,
And the meek Violet, in amis Blue,
Creeps low to Earth, and hides from public View:
But the rank Nettle rears her Crest on high;
So Ribaulds loose their Fronts unblushing shew,
While modest Merit doth neglected lie,
And pines in lonely Shade, unseen of vulgar Eye.
V.
See! all around the gall-less Culvers bill,
Mean while the Nightingale's becalming Lays
Mix with the plaintive Music of the Rill
The which in various Gyres the Meadow bays,
Behold! the Welkin bursts into a Blaze!
Fast by the Car of Light the nimble Hours,
In Songs of Triumph, hail his genial Rays,
And, as they wend to Thetis cooling Bow'rs,
They bound along the Sky, and strew the Heav'ns with Flow'rs.
VI.
And now the human Bosom melts to Love;
The raptur'd Bard awakes his skilful Lyre,
By running Streams, or in the Laurel Grove,
He tunes to am'rous Notes his sounding Wire,
All, all is Harmony, and all Desire.
The happy Numbers charm the blooming Maid,
Her blushing Cheeks pronounce her Heart on Fire,
She now consents, then shuns th' embow'ring Shade,
With faint Reluctance yields; desirous, yet afraid.
VI
Now rustic Cuddy, with untutor'd Throat,
(Tho' much admir'd, I ween, of Nymph and Swain)
By various Songs would various Ends promote.
Seeks he to prove that Woman's Vows are vain?
He Bateman's Fortune tells, a baleful Strain!
And if, to honour Britain he be led,
He sings a 'Prentice bold, in Londs profane,
Who, all unarm'd, did strike two Lyons dead,
Tore forth their savage Hearts, and did a Princess wed.
VIII.
But hark! the Bag-pipe summons to the Green,
The jocund Bag-pipe, that awaketh Sport;
The blythesome Lasses, as the Morning sheen,
Around the flow'r-crown'd May-pole quick resort;
The Gods of Pleasure, here, have fix'd their Court.
Quick on the Wing the flying Moment seize,
Nor build up ample Schemes, for Life is short,
Short as the Whisper of the passing Breeze.
Yet, ah! in vain I preach-mine Heart is ill at Ease.





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