Page:The Seasons - Thomson (1791).djvu/64

The Bittern knows his time, with bill ingulpht,
To shake the sounding marsh; or from the shore
The Plover when to scatter o'er the heath,
And sing their wild notes to the listening waste.25

At last from Aries rolls the bounteous sun,
And the bright Bull receives him. Then no more
Th' expansive atmosphere is cramp'd with cold;
But, full of life, and vivifying soul,
Lifts the light clouds sublime, and spreads them thin,30
Fleecy, and white, o'er all-surrounding heaven.

Forth fly the tepid airs; and unconfin'd,
Unbinding earth, the moving softness strays.
Joyous th'impatient husbandman perceives
Relenting nature, and his lusty steers35
Drives from their stalls, to where the well-us'd plow
Lies in the furrow, loosen'd from the frost.
There, unrefusing to the harness'd yoke,
They lend their shoulder, and begin their toil,
Chear'd by the simple song and soaring lark.40
Meanwhile, incumbent o'er the shining share,
The master leans, removes th' obstructing clay,
Winds the whole work, and sidelong lays the glebe.

White, thro' the neighbouring fields the sower stalks,
With measur'd step; and liberal throws the grain45
Into the faithful bosom of the ground.
The harrow follows harsh, and shuts the scene.

Be gracious, Heaven! For now laborious man
Has done his part. Ye fostering breezes, blow!
Ye softening dews, ye tender showers, descend!50
And temper all, thou world-reviving sun,
Into the perfect year! Nor ye, who live
In luxury and ease, in pomp and pride,

Think