June. an Ode

Hark! 'tis the woodlark's note, he feels the sun, And in full glee his mattins has begun, With him the linnet and the blackbird vie, Who sweetest shall salute the summer sky; From bush to bush the jealousy, like fire, Seems to enflame the universal choir, Joint is the chorus, sweet the serenade, Sweet vocal needs no instrumental aid.

Now swell the udders of the milky kine, Now swells the green grape on the tender vine; Like ripen'd strawberries of red and white The germinating blossoms charm the sight; Blended as in the rain-bow, various hues Of flowers uncounted drink the morning dews; Acanthus, hyacinth, and crocus meet To make young June rich sandals for her feet;

With backward pace a sea-crab leads the way, As if it fled the fond pursuit of May; But May is gone, and leaves to buxom June What she had rear'd, with nicer care to prune; With animating heat to warm the seed, And of each plant the tender roots to feed. Thus month to month successive recommends The growth of Nature to promote her ends;

Gives to each other's hands the forming care, First January binds with nipping air, Next February lays the earth in snows, And March restrains them as his tempest blows— With milder aspect April sends his shower, And May's warm sun awakes herb, tree and flower, 'Till warmer suns, with brighter June combine To aid young Nature in her great design.