Again grim Winter seeks the polar zone,
To rear mid arctic cliffs his ice-built throne:
And loosed, at length, the streams from crystal chains,
With liquid murmurs wind through smiling plains.
Fair Spring with balmy breath revives the bowers,
And strews on Nature's lap the laughing flowers;
She bids them open to celestial dyes,
And o'er the meads in glittering glory rise.
At this soft season of the genial breeze,
Of shining vales, and gay reviving trees,
When some sweet air had curled the limpid brook,
And from the flowers their mingled fragrance shook,
Oft I the din of strife and war's alarms
Inglorious shunned, to gaze on Nature's charms—
Oft essayed to tune my harmless strain,
Nor in the ear of Friendship tuned in vain.