S U M M E R

THOU joyful, pleasant Season, hail!
Welcome thy shining ray!
My heart feels transport and delight
Throughout the lengthen'd day!

To wintry storms and surly blasts
Which Nature's works do kill,
And all their ghastly tribe of woes,
I bid a glad farewell.

Transported now I turn my eyes,
To shining fruitful fields;
To dewy lawns, and all the sweets
That charming summer yields.

To leafy groves and shady bow'rs
My fancy does me lead;
To orchards, banks, and purling streams,
Which make my heart right glad.

With rich profusion Nature reigns,
All artlessly array'd
With flow'ry verdure fields are deck'd
Without Man's help or aid.

Now Phoebus in his empire shines,
Takes his stupendous height,
Gives vital pow'r to all below,
Moves insects to take flight.

By his warm beams are wak'd to life
Ten thousand tribes of flies;
Some haunt the woods and some the groves,
Which all their want supplies.

The bees, the wisest of that train,
Frequent the meads and moors,
And suck, on evr'y hill and dale,
Sweet honey from all flow'rs.

What Nature, kind and gen'rous gives
More than they can devour,
With frugal care they carry home,
And lay it up in store.

Attend vain thoughtless, careless Man!
Take Soloman's advice,
Go to the Ant or Bee and learn
What solid wisdom is!

From these a pattern take, and learn
To husband well your time,
That, when old age comes, you may have
No cause for to repine.

How goodly is the prospect now!
How gay the fields appear!
Fond hopes of plenty thrill each heart,
And banish ev'ry tear.

Each tree is laden with it's fruit,
The meads luxuriant grow;
The waving corn nods on the plain,
A goodly, glorious show.

Prevent Great God of Nature! Oh!
Destructive storms prevent!
In mercy to perfection bring
The fruits which thou hast sent!

Chain up the tempest's horrid rage,
And bid it cease to blow;
But, above all, defend from frosts,
That waste where'er they go!

That so the heart of ev'ry one
With gratitude may glow,
And praise thee, with enraptur'd souls,
For gifts thou dost bestow.