Accept, dear Nymph, a tribute due

To sacred friendship, and to you;

But with it take what breath'd the whole,
O take to thine, the Poet's soul.
If fancy here her power displays,
Or if a heart exalts these lays,
You fairest in that fancy shine,
And all that heart is fondly thine.

(*) These verses were never before published. They were written by Mr. Thomson to AMANDA, then miss Y. G. so often celebrated, with a present of the first copy of his SEASONS.

Accetta, Ninfa adorata, un omaggio dovuto

alla sacra amicizia ed a te; ma con esso, ciò che al tutto diè vita, l'anima del Poeta ne accetta, e alla tua, ten priego, l'accoppia. Se qui spiega la fantasia il suo vigore, o se fa risaltare il cuor questi canti, tu in lei risplendi sovra ogni Bella; e questo cuore per la tenerezza è tutto tuo.

(*) Questi versi non erano per prima stati mai pubblicati. Furono scritti da Thomson ad AMANDA, allora madamigella Y. G. si spesso encomiata, in offrirle il primo esem→ plare delle sue STAGIONI.

SPRING

PRIMAVERA

ARGUMENT

The subject proposed. Inscribed to the Countess of Hertford. The season is described as it affects the various parts of nature, ascending from the lower to the higher; with digressions arising from the subject. Its influence on inanimate matter. On vegetables. On brute animals. And last, on man; concluding with a dissuasive from the wild and irregular passion of love, opposed to that of a pure and happy kind.

Come, gentle SPRING! ethereal Mildness! come;

And from the bosom of yon dropping cloud,
While music wakes around, veil'd in a shower
Of shadowing roses, on our plains descend.

O HERTFORD! fitted or to shine in courts

With unaffected grace, or walk the plain
With innocence and meditation join'd
In soft assemblage, listen to my song,
Which thy own Season paints; when Nature all
Is blooming and benevolent, like thee.

And see where surly WINTER passes off,
Far to the north, and calls his ruffian blasts:
His blasts obey, and quit the howling hill,
The shatter'd forest, and the ravag'd vale;
While softer gales succeed, at whose kind touch,
Dissolving snows in livid torrents lost,

The mountains lift their green heads to the sky.