The BEAUTIES of the SPRING. Mary Leapor 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. T127827 p. 413 K101776.000 Leapor, Mrs. (Mary), 1722-1746. Poems upon several occasions: By Mrs. Leapor of Brackley in Northamptonshire. London printed: and sold by J. Roberts 1748 pp. 15-18. 15,[5],282p. ; 8⁰.

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The BEAUTIES of the SPRING . HAIL happy Shades , and hail thou chearful Plain , Where Peace and Pleasure unmolested reign ; Where dewy Buds their blushing Bosoms show , And the cool Rivers murmur as they flow : See yellow Crowfoots deck the gaudy Hills , While the faint Primrose loves the purling Rills : Sagacious Bees their Labours now renew , Hum round the Blossoms , and extract their Dew : In their new Liv'ries the green Woods appear , And smiling Nature decks the Infant Year ; See yon proud Elm that shines in borrow'd Charms , While the curl'd Woodbines deck her aged Arms . When the streak'd East receives a lighter Gray , And Larks prepare to meet the early Day ; Through the glad Bowers the shrill Anthems run , While the Groves glitter to the rising Sun : Then Phillis hastens to her darling Cow , Whose shining Tresses wanton on her Brow , While to her Cheek enliv'ning Colours fly , And Health and Pleasure sparkle in her Eye . Unspoil'd by Riches , nor with Knowledge vain , Contented Cymon whistles o'er the Plain ; His Flock dismisses from their nightly Fold , Observes their Health , and sees their Number told . Pleas'd with its Being , see the nimble Fawn Sports in the Grove , or wantons o'er the Lawn , While the pleas'd Coursers frolick out the Day , And the dull Ox affects unwieldy Play . Then haste , my Friend , to yonder Sylvan Bowers , Where Peace and Silence crown the blissful Hours ; In those still Groves no martial Clamours sound , No streaming Purple stains the guiltless Ground ; But fairer Scenes our ravish'd Eyes employ , Give a soft Pleasure , and a quiet Joy ; Grief flies from hence , and wasting Cares subside , While wing'd with Mirth the laughing Minutes glide . See , my fair Friend , the painted Shrubs are gay , And round they Head ambrosial Odours play ; At Sight of thee the swelling Buds expand , And op'ning Roses seem to court thy Hand ; Hark , the shrill Linnet charms the distant Plain , And Philomel replies with softer Strain ; See those bright Lilies shine with milky Hue , And those fair Cowslips drop with balmy Dew ; To thee , my Fair , the chearful Linnet sings , And Philomela warbles o'er the Springs ; For thee those Lilies paint the fertile Ground , And those fair Cowslips are with Nectar crown'd ; Here let us rest to shun the scorching Ray , While curling Zephyrs in the Branches play . In these calm Shades no ghastly Woe appears , No Cries of Wretches stun our frighted Ears ; Here no gloss'd Hate , no sainted Wolves are seen , Nor busy Faces throng the peaceful Green ; But Fear and Sorrow leave the careful Breast , And the glad Soul sinks happily to Rest .