Unless the World were all prepar'd t' embrace TO THE REVEREND MR. NEWTON. AN INVITATION INTO THE COUNTRY. I. THE Swallows in their torpid state II. The keenest frost that binds the stream, Are neither felt nor fear'd by them, Secure of their repose. III. But man, all feeling and awake, The gloomy scene surveys; Old Winter, halting o'er the mead, Bids me and Mary mourn; But lovely Spring peeps o'er his head, And whispers your return. V. Then April, with her sister May, Shall chase him from the bow'rs, And, if a tear, that speaks regret A glimpse of joy, that we have met, VOL. II. CATHARINA. ADDRESSED TO MISS STAPLETON, (NOW MRS. COURTNEY.) SHE came-she is gone-we have met→→→→ And meet perhaps never again; The sun of that moment is set, And seems to have risen in vain. The last ev'ning ramble we made, Our progress was often delay'd By the nightingale warbleing nigh. We paus'd under many a tree, And much she was charm'd with a tone Less sweet to Maria and me, Who so lately had witness'd her own. My numbers that day she had sung, Could infuse into numbers of mine. The work of my fancy the more, Though the pleasures of London exceed Than aught that the city can show. So it is, when the mind is endu'd |