Page:The Seasons - Thomson (1791).djvu/80

Infinite numbers, delicacies, smells, 550
With hues on hues expression cannot paint,
The breath of Nature, and her endless bloom.

Hail, Source of Being! Universal Soul
Of heaven and earth! Essential Presence, hail!
To Thee I bend the knee; to Thee my thoughts, 555
Continual climb; who, with a Master-hand,
Hast the great whole into perfection touch'd.
By Thee the various vegetative tribes,
Wrapt in a filmy net, and clad with leaves,
Draw the live ether, and imbibe the dew: 560
By Thee dispos'd into congenial soils,
Stands each attractive plant, and sucks, and swells
The juicy tide; a twining mass of tubes.
At Thy command the vernal sun awakes
The torpid sap, detruded to the root565
By wintry winds, that now in fluent dance,
And lively fermentation, mounting, spreads
All this innumerous-colour'd scene of things.

As rising from the vegetable world
My theme ascends, with equal wing ascend 570
My panting Muse! and hark how loud the woods
Invite you forth in all your gayest trim.
Lend me your song, ye nightingales! oh pour
The mazy-running soul of melody
Into my varied verse! while I deduce575
From the first note the hollow cuckoo sings,
The symphony of Spring, and touch a theme
Unknown to fame, the passions of the groves.

When first the soul of love is sent abroad,
Warm thro' the vital air, and on the heart580
Harmonious seizes, the gay troops begin,

In