ODE to SPRING. Anna Laetitia Barbauld (née Aikin) Alexander Huber Editor Bodleian Libraries, University of Oxford
Broad Street Oxford OX1 3BG UK
Eighteenth-Century Poetry Archive
Taylor Institution Library St Giles' Oxford OX1 3NA UK info@eighteenthcenturypoetry.org https://www.eighteenthcenturypoetry.org/
Oxford This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 Unported License. T236 K019955.000 Barbauld, Mrs. (Anna Letitia), 1743-1825. Poems. London printed for Joseph Johnson 1773 pp. 97-100. vi,138p. ; 4⁰.

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ODE to SPRING . Hope waits upon the flowery prime . WALLER . SWEET daughter of a rough and stormy sire , Hoar Winter's blooming child ; delightful Spring ! Whose unshorn locks with leaves And swelling buds are crown'd ; From the green islands of eternal youth , ( Crown'd with fresh blooms , and ever springing shade , ) Turn , hither turn thy step , O thou , whose powerful voice More sweet than softest touch of Doric reed , Or Lydian flute , can sooth the madding winds , And thro' the stormy deep Breathe thy own tender calm . Thee , best belov'd ! the virgin train await With songs and festal rites , and joy to rove Thy blooming wilds among , And vales and dewy lawns , With untir'd feet ; and cull thy earliest sweets To weave fresh garlands for the glowing brow Of him , the favour'd youth That prompts their whisper'd sigh . Unlock thy copious stores ; those tender showers That drop their sweetness on the infant buds , And silent dews that swell The milky ear's green stem . And feed the flowering osier's early shoots ; And call those winds which thro' the whispering boughs With warm and pleasant breath Salute the blowing flowers . Now let me sit beneath the whitening thorn , And mark thy spreading tints steal o'er the dale ; And watch with patient eye Thy fair unfolding charms . O nymph approach ! while yet the temperate sun With bashful forehead , thro' the cool moist air Throws his young maiden beams , And with chaste kisses woes The earth's fair bosom ; while the streaming veil Of lucid clouds with kind and frequent shade Protect thy modest blooms From his severer blaze . Sweet is thy reign , but short ; The red dog-star Shall scorch thy tresses , and the mower's scythe Thy greens , thy flow'rets all , Remorseless shall destroy . Reluctant shall I bid thee then farewel ; For O , not all that Autumn's lap contains , Nor Summer's ruddiest fruits , Can aught for thee atone Fair Spring ! whose simplest promise more delights Than all their largest wealth , and thro' the heart Each joy and new-born hope With softest influence breathes .