名人诗歌|To Spring

Again the wood, and long with－drawing vale,
In many a tint^{1 of tender green are dressed,}

Where the young leaves unfolding scarce conceal^{2
Reneath their early shade the halfformed nest}

Of finch^{3 or wood－lark; and the primrose4 pale,
And lavish5 cowslip, wildly scattered6 round,}

Give their sweet spirits to the sighing gale^{7.
Ah! Season of delight! could augght be found}

To soothe^{8 awhile the tortured bosom's pain,
Of sorrow's rankling9 shaft10 to cure the wound,}

And bring life's first delusions^{11 once again,
'Twere surely met in thee! Thy prospect12 fair,}

Thy sounds of harmony, thy balmy air,
Have power to cure all sadneessbut despair.