THE SNOW-DROP.

WINTER! retire,

Thy reign is past ;

Hoary Sire!

Yield the fceptre of thy fway,

Sound thy trumpet in the blast,

And call thy ftorms away;

Winter! retire;

Wherefore do thy wheels delay?

Mount the chariot of thine ire,

And quit the realms of day;

On thy ftate

Whirlwinds wait;

And blood-fhot meteors lend thee light

Hence to dreary arctic regions,

Summon thy terrific legions;

Hence to caves of northern night

Speed thy flight.

From halcyon feas

And purer skies,

O fouthern breeze!

Awake, arife:

Breath of heaven! benignly blow,

Melt the fnow;

Breath of heaven! unchain the floods,

Warm the woods,

And make the mountains flow.

Aufpicious to the Mufe's prayer,

The freshening gale

Embalms the vale,

And breathes enchantment thro' the air:

On its wing

Floats the Spring,

With glowing eye, and golden hair:

Dark before her Angel-form

She drives the Demon of the ftorm,

Like Gladness chafing Care.

Winter's gloomy night withdrawn,

Lo! the young romantic Hours

Search the hill, the dale, the lawn,

To behold the SNOW-DROP white

Start to light,

And fhine in FLORA's defart bowers,

Beneath the vernal dawn,

The Morning Star of Flowers!

O welcome to our Ifle,

Thou, Meffenger of Peace!

At whofe bewitching fmile

The embattled tempefts ceafe:

Emblem of Innocence and Truth!

Firstborn of Nature's womb,

When strong in renovated youth,

She bursts from Winter's tomb;

Thy Parent's eye hath shed

A precious dew-drop on thine head;

Frail as a Mother's tear

Upon her infant's face,

When ardent hope to tender fear,

And anxious love, gives place.

But lo! the dew-drop falls away

The fun falutes thee with a ray,

Warm as a Mother's kifs

Upon her Infant's cheek,

When the heart bounds with blifs,

And joy that cannot speak!

-When I meet thee by the way,

Like a pretty, fportive child,

On the winter-wafted wild,

With thy darling breeze at play,

Opening to the radiant sky

All the sweetness of thine eye;

-Or bright with funbeams, fresh with showers,

O thou Fairy-Queen of flowers!

Watch thee o'er the plain advance

At the head of FLORA's dance;

Simple SNOW-DROP! then in thee.

All thy fifter train I fee:

Every brilliant bud that blows,

From the blue-bell to the rofe;

All the beauties that appear.

On the bofom of the Year;

All that wreathe the locks of Spring,

Summer's ardent breath perfume,