The Spring. To Mr. Ben. Wrightson

HAil fragrant Spring! the charming pride of May,
Let Heaven smile upon this solemn day,
The Sun new drest, shine with a brighter ray.
The Feverish Summer, Aguish Winter flie,
Consumptive Autumn with her Palsie die,
Or banish'd hence at the dread Queen's command,
Go take possession in another Land.
For Flora comes with Royal Garlands crown'd,
The Flowers kiss her feet upon the ground;
The Muses, Graces, and good Genius dance,
And with just Measures and sweet Tunes advance.
Birds winged Sirens, Choristers of the Sky,
In Consort sing, and in Procession fly;
Each keeps his proper Time, and Note, and Place,
Whilst falling murmuring Rivers sing the Base.
The Eastern winds Arabian Odours breath,
The Western upwards blow those Sweets they suck'd beneath.
The Fields array'd in their new Robes of State,
Upon their bounteous Benefactor wait.
Birds fan their wings, & spread their speckled plumes,
And Violets make a Present of Perfumes.
The Air on Primroses and Lillies feeds,
Melts Spices, and prolifick moisture breeds.
The Woodbinds and the Honysuckles strive
Which with Ambrosia first can stock a Hive.
Nature does entertain the Queen with Feasts,
And Plays and Masks acted by wanton Beasts:
The Elephant plays Gambols with his Trunk;
The Grashopper with dew of Nectar drunk,
To his own Musick leads a Country-Dance:
Mettlesom Horses, through their Pasture prance;
The active Roes and Kids at Leap-Frog play;
The whole Creation keeps a Holy day.
Now tempting Venus, naked in her Hair,
With her Gallants walks out to take the Air.
Love in his Mother's Locks hides all his Darts,
And takes his rounds to single out his Hearts:
And here and there, still as he passes by,
At random lets an amorous Arrow fly.
Day and night Vulcan his vast Bellows blows,
Day and night the Cyclopian Anvil glows
With harden'd Metal work'd on th' Forge of Fate,
For Shafts, some gilt with Love, some tipp'd with Hate.
His Stock for all the following year, new ground,
Poison'd to carry Death in every Wound.
Proud Peacocks with their Tails expanded strut,
And jealous Rams for recreation butt.
The Warlike Steed waves up and down his Main,
The Warlike Steed, the Champion of the Plain.
The Bull fights bloudy Duels for his Mate,
And to keep up the Grandeur of his State.
No Fleecy Tempests gather in the Sky,
Nor raging Dog-stars torrid heat now fry.
But Sol with his new Chariot shines more bright,
His Horses breath less flame, and clearer light.
The Silver Streams double refined flow,
And Fishes frisk, to see the pompous Show.
Home the kind Oak the Vine his Wife receives,
And hides her nakedness with his own Leaves.
Turtles together billing sit, and coo,
And with alternate glances silent woo.
Nightingales charm the listning Woods, to wrest
Their tender Sprigs, to make a downy Nest.
Flora's conducted to her Vernal Throne,
And now a Trumpet for Retreat is blown.
Once more her Court, the painted Gardens smile,
And sweat out moisture from their fruitful Soil.
The sickly Plants revive, look fresh and fair,
The Season temperate, clear the Morning Air:
The Evening drops down various sweets in showers;
Proserpine plunders Sicily for Flowers.
The little eager Virgin never stands,
But fills her Lap, her Bosom, and her Hands:
The Blossoms, prest by an untimely death,
Spin out their Odour with their dying breath:
(As Bees, kill'd by the wanton Boys in play,
Their Honey from their swelling Bags convey.)
Blind Pluto comes, innocent his design!
Led by the scent, and lights on Proserpine:
Then greedy to secure those fragrant Sweets,
He takes her too, and rifles all he meets.
Now more than her Elysian Joys invite,
Now Fate unlocks the Iron Gate of Night,
The Prisoner visits Ceres and the Light.
Almighty Jupiter descends to lie
With Mother Earth, and passing through the Skie,
The scorching heat of Signs malignant damps,
And with fresh Oyl supplies the heavenly Lamps.
Now Mother Earth's full time is almost come,
Parent of all things, bears a pregnant Womb.
Nature is hatching Plenty on her Nest,
Nature by youthful Saturn first comprest.
This is the Life and Spirit of the Year,
With a brisk Air thus Janus does appear.
This the slick skin, the shrivel'd Snake does wear,
when her old case is ragged, loose, and bare.
Harmonious Musick, and Seraphick Love,
Is all those happy Souls enjoy above.
Now Earth is like the Mansions of the Blest;
Musick in every Grove, and Love in every Breast.
Here in this natural Landskip we may see
Hesperian Paradise in Epitomie:
For what was Paradise, but eternal Spring?
Let Birds of Paradise its Praises sing.
Hail, Sacred Spring! Hail to thy lovely Green!
Let the World shout, Amen; and cry, God bless the Queen.