Littell's Living Age/Volume 133/Issue 1716/An April Shower

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The primrose-head is bowed with tears,
The wood is rippling through with rain,
Though now the heaven once more appears,
And beams the bounteous sun again.
From every blade and blossom-cup
The earth sends thankful incense up.

O happy hearts of flower and field,
That, soon as grief be overpast,
Your fragrant thankfulness can yield
For troubled skies and rainful blast!
I would that I as soon could see
The blessings of adversity!

Spectator.F. W. B.