Classic Poem

A FRAGMENT .

The care of gardens, and the garden's pride
To rear the blooming flowers, invites the Muse;
A grateful task! To thee, O Hume, she sings
Well-pleas'd amid the verdant walks to stray
With thee, her chief delight, when Summer smiles.
Come now, my love, nor fear the Winter's rage;
For see the winter's past, the rains are gone:
Behold the singing of the birds is now,
Season benign, the joyous race prepare
Their native melody, and warbling airs
Are heard in every grove: the flowers appear
Earth's smiling offspring, and the beauteous meads
Are cloth'd in pleasant green; now fruitful trees
Put forth their tender buds that soon shall swell
With rich nectarious juice, and woo thy hand
To pluck their ripen'd sweets. Forsake a while
The noise of cities, and with me retire
To rural solitude: Lo! for thy head
I weave a garland, deck'd with vernal flowers,
Violet, and hyacinth, and blushing rose
Of every rich perfume; here in this calm
And undisturb'd retreat content to dwell
Secluded from mankind, with thee and Love
Sweet'ner of human cares. But thou perhaps
Delight'st to hear the voice that bids thee come
To festival and dance, thou long'st to meet
The raptur'd youth, that at assembly hour
Awaits thy coming: haste, adorn'd in all
Thy native softness, fresh as breathing flowers
Sweet smelling in the morning dew, and fire
His soul, ill able to resist such charms,
Won with attractive smiles; while I far off
Bemoan thy absence, and thy image form
In every thicket and each secret grove,
To soothe my longing mind by Fancy's aid,
Pleasing resemblance! until thou thyself,
O fairest among women, deign to grace
The bower that Love prepares, from me to learn
The care and culture of the flowery kind.
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