_Ode Xxvii._

See the young, the rosy Spring, Gives to the breeze her spangled wing; While virgin Graces, warm with May, Fling roses o'er her dewy way! The murmuring billows of the deep Have languished into silent sleep; And mark! the flitting sea-birds lave Their plumes in the reflecting wave; While cranes from hoary winter fly To flutter in a kinder sky. Now the genial star of day

Dissolves the murky clouds away; And cultur'd field, and winding stream, Are sweetly tissued by his beam. Now the earth prolific swells With leafy buds and flowery bells; Gemming shoots the olive twine, Clusters ripe festoon the vine; All along the branches creeping, Through the velvet foliage peeping, Little infant fruits we see Nursing into luxury!