Spring

I

Bleak winter is subdued at length,
And forced to yield the day;
The sun has wasted all his strength,
And driven him away.

II

And now long-wish’d-for spring is come,
How alter’d is the scene!
The trees and shrubs are dress’d in bloom.
The earth array’d in green.

III

Where’er we tread, beneath our feet
The clust’ring flowers spring;
The artless birds in concerts sweet,
Invite our hearts to sing.

IV

But ah! in vain I strive to join,
Oppress’d with sin and doubt;
I feel ’tis winter still within,
Though all is spring without.

V

Oh! would my Saviour from on high
Break through these clouds and shine!
No creature then more bless’d than I,
No song more loud than mine.

VI

Till then no softly warbling thrush,
Nor cowslip’s sweet perfume,
Nor beauties of each painted bush,
Can dissipate my gloom.

VII

To Adam, soon as he transgress’d,
Thus Eden bloom’d in vain:
Not Paradise could give him rest,
Or sooth his heart-felt pain.

VIII

Yet here an emblem I perceive
Of what the Lord can do:
Dear Saviour, help me to believe,
That I may nourish too.

IX

Thy word can soon my hopes revive,
Can overcome my foes,
And make my languid graces thrive
And blossom like the rose.