POETICAL CALENDAR.

F

SEPTEMBER. AN ODE.

Arewell the

pomp of Flora! vivid scene! Welcome fage Autumn, to invert the yearFarewell to fummer's eye-delighting green! Her verdure fades-autumnal blafts are near. The filky wardrobe now is laid afide, With all the rich regalia of her pride.

And must we bid fweet Philomel adieu ?

She that was wont to charm us in the grove?

Muft Nature's livery wear a fadder hue,
And a dark canopy be ftretch'd above?
Yes

-for September mounts his ebon-throne, And the fmooth foliage of the plain is gone.

Libra, to weigh the harveft's pearly store,
The golden ballance poizes now on high,
The calm ferenity of Zephyr o'er,
Sol's glittering legions to th' equator fly,

VOL. IX.

B

At

At the fame hour he shows his orient head,
And, warn'd by Thetis, finks in Ocean's bed.

Adieu! ye damask roses, which remind

The maiden fair-one, how her charms decay; Ye rifing blafts, oh! leave fome mark behind, Some small memorial of the sweets of May: Ah! no-the ruthless season will not hear, Nor fpare one glory of the ruddy year.

No more the waste of music sung so late
From every bufh, green

orcheftre of love,

For now their winds the birds of passage wait,
And bid a laft farewell to every grove;
While thofe, whom fhepherd-fwains the fleepers call,
Chufe their recefs in fome fequefter'd wall.

Yet still shall sage September boaft his pride,
Some birds fhall chant, fome gayer flowers fhall
Nor is the season wholly unallied

[blow,
To purple bloom; the haler fruits fhall grow,
The ftronger plants, such as enjoy the cold,
And wear a livelier grace by being old.

SAN

AN AUTUMNAL ODE

TO MR. HAYMAN.

YET

ET once more, glorious God of day,
While beams thine orb ferene,

O let me warbling court thy stay
To gild the fading scene!
Thy rays invigorate the Spring,

Bright Summer to perfection bring,

The cold inclemency of Winter cheer,

[year.

And make th' Autumnal months the mildeft of the

Ere yet the ruffet foliage fall

I'll climb the mountain's brow,

My friend, my Hayman, at thy call,

To view the scene below:

How sweetly pleafing to behold

Forefts of vegetable gold!

How mix'd the many chequer'd fhades between The tawny, mellowing hue, and the gay vivid green!

How fplendid all the fky! how ftill!

How mild the dying gale!

How foft the whispers of the rill,

That winds along the vale!

So tranquil Nature's works appear,

It feems the fabbath of the

year:

As if, the Summer's labour paft, she chofe
This feafon's fober calm for blandishing repofe.

Such is of well-fpent life the time,
When bufy days are paft;

Man, verging gradual from his prime,
Meets facred peace at laft:

His flowery Spring of pleasures o'er,

And Summer's full-blown pride no more,

He gains pacific Autumn, mild and bland, [hand. And dauntless braves the stroke of Winter's palfied

For yet a while, a little while,
Involv'd in wintry gloom,

And lo! another Spring fhall fmile,
A Spring eternal bloom:

Then fhall he shine, a glorious guest,

In the bright manfions of the bleft,

Where due rewards on virtue are beftow'd, [fow'd. And reap'd the golden fruits of what his Autumn

AU

A

AUTUM N. AN ODE.

Las! with swift and filent pace, Impatient Time rolls on the year; The seasons change, and Nature's face Now sweetly smiles, now frowns fevere.

'Twas fpring, 'twas fummer, all was gay,
Now autumn bends a cloudy brow,
The flowers of spring are swept away,
And summer's fruits defert the bough.

The verdant leaves that play'd on high,
And wanton'd in the western breeze,
Now trod in duft neglected lie,

As Boreas ftrips the bending trees.

The fields that wav'd with golden grain,
As ruffet heaths are wild and bare,

Not moist with dew, but drench'd in rain,

Nor health, nor pleasure, wanders there.

No more, while thro' the midnight shade,
Beneath the moon's pale orb I ftray,
Soft pleafing woes my heart invade,
As Progne pours the melting lay.

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