Elegy VII

written by

« Reload image


  The ruffian North has spent his savage power,
  Collects his winds, and quits the mountain's side;
  And Auster mild, with many a genial shower,
  Renews the laughing meadow's grassy pride.
  The active swallow wings her rapid flight
  In sportive circies through the ether bland,
  And in luxuriant foliage proudly dight
  The verdant fathers of the forest stand. 
  No more beneath thy hospitable shade
  The shepherd swains their amorous descant sing,
  Each wanders forth amid the blooming glade
  To hail the new-blown daughters of the spring.
  Yet, while yon elms, who now so gaily spread
  Their leafy honors to the vernal gale,
  Stood naked to the wintry winds, that shed
  Their scatter'd glories o'er the wasted vale;
  Thy limbs alone, of all the dreary wood,
  Could brave the snowy drift, and chilling blast;
  Against the mingled storm uninjur'd stood,
  And mock'd the howling tempest as it past.
  For this, while all the jocund swains around
  The blooming season praise with youthful glee,
  I'll teach the nodding coverts to resound
  A verse that's due to gratitude and thee. 
  I'll rove, where opening flowers their sweets combine,
  Where blossoms fair their varied odours breathe;
  Then with assiduous hand a garland twine,
  And on thy branches hang the votive wreath.
  So, while in honor of the smiling year,
  Echoes each hollow dale and every grove,
  Thy venerable shade a lay shall hear,
  Sacred to friendship firm and constant love.

© Henry James Pye