Here you will find the Poem Ode To Spring of poet Anna Lætitia Barbauld
SWEET daughter of a rough and stormy fire, Hoar Winter's blooming child ; delightful Spring ! Whose unshorn locks with leaves And swelling buds are crowned ; From the green islands of eternal youth, (Crown'd with fresh blooms, and ever springing shade,) Turn, hither turn thy step, O thou, whose powerful voice More sweet than softest touch of Doric reed, Or Lydian flute, can sooth the madding winds, And thro' the stormy deep Breathe thy own tender calm. Thee, best belov'd ! the virgin train await With songs and festal rites, and joy to rove Thy blooming wilds among, And vales and dewy lawns, With untir'd feet ; and cull thy earliest sweets To weave fresh garlands for the glowing brow Of him, the favour'd youth That prompts their whisper'd sigh. Unlock thy copious stores ; those tender showers That drop their sweetness on the infant buds, And silent dews that swell The milky ear's green stem. And feed the slowering osier's early shoots ; And call those winds which thro' the whispering boughs With warm and pleasant breath Salute the blowing flowers. Now let me sit beneath the whitening thorn, And mark thy spreading tints steal o'er the dale ; And watch with patient eye Thy fair unfolding charms. O nymph approach ! while yet the temperate sun With bashful forehead, thro' the cool moist air Throws his young maiden beams, And with chaste kisses woes The earth's fair bosom ; while the streaming veil Of lucid clouds with kind and frequent shade Protect thy modest blooms From his severer blaze. Sweet is thy reign, but short ; The red dog-star Shall scorch thy tresses, and the mower's scythe Thy greens, thy flow'rets all, Remorseless shall destroy. Reluctant shall I bid thee then farewel ; For O, not all the Autumn's lap contains, Nor Summer's ruddiest fruits, Can aught for thee atone Fair Spring ! whose simplest promise more delights Than all their largest wealth, and thro' the heart Each joy and new-born hope With softest influence breathes.