The Dawn of July, 1810

I saw thee late the emblem fair
Of beauty, innocence, and truth,
Start tiptoe on the verge of air,
'Twixt childhood and unstable youth :
But now I see thee stretched at rest —
To break that rest shall wake no morrow ;
Pale as the grave-flower on thy breast !
Poor child of love, of shame, and sorrow.

May thy long sleep be soft and sweet,
Thy visions fraught witli bliss to be ;
And long the daisy, emblem meet,
Shall shed its earliest tear o'er thee.

HAIL, lovely July ! fair and gay,
Thou risest with this holy day,
The radiance of thy infant ray
Betokens gay hilarity.

How sweet to us the rising flush:
But why that rosy maiden blush,
While from the vale and verdant bush
Distils the melting melody ?

Is it, because when met thy view
Edina, set 'mid hills of dew,
And spires that bore the welkin blue,
There all was dead serenity ;
No eye the glorious scene to scan,
When up thy silken veil was drawn,
And broad yon orb of flame began
To mount the green wave's canopy ?

But welcome thou, sweet summer's queen!
Arrayed in robes of gaudy green,
With stripes and dazzling gems between,
In richest wild variety.

The hedge-row bends in lines of snow,
Deep blossoms o'er the valleys blow,
And wild-flowers deck the mountain's brow,
In modest sweet simplicity.

Fair harbinger of plenty nigh,
Calm be thy course, and mild thy sky;
That tear that glistens in thine eye
Adds beauty to thy majesty.

Yet have I seen on life's lone way,
Its dawn, like thine, as fair and gay ;
And all its splendours dashed away
By storms of black adversity !