July. an Ode

The sun comes on a-pace, and thro' the Signs Travels unwearied; as he hotter grows, Above, the herbage, and beneath, the mines Own his warm influence, while his axle glows, The flaming Lion meets him on the way, Proud to receive the flaming god of day.

In fullest bloom the damask rose is seen, Carnations boast their variegated die, The fields of corn display a vivid green, And cherries with the crimson orient vie, The hop in blossom climbs the lofty pole, Nor dreads the lightning, tho' the thunders roll.

The wealth of Flora like the rainbow shows, Blending her various hues of light and shade, How many tints would emulate the rose, Or imitate the lilly's bright parade! The flowers of topaz and of saphire vie With all the richest tinctures of the sky.

Beneath the swelling udder teems the pail, The shining scythe appears in every lawn, With cooling beverage the swains regale Their sun-burnt nymphs, all-sportive as the fawn, Nor yet the orchard shows its fruit of gold, While the wool's shorn from off the fleecy fold.

The vegetable world is all alive, Green grows the goosberry on its bush of thorn, The infant bees now swarm around the hive, And the sweet bean perfumes the lap of morn, Millions of embryos take the wing to fly, The young inherit, as the old ones die.

'Tis summer all—convey me to the bower, The bower of myrtle form'd by Myra's skill, There let me waste away the noon-tide hour, Fann'd by the breezes from yon cooling rill; By Myra's side reclin'd, the burning ray Shall be as grateful as the cool of day.