If to the valley she repair

For shelter and defence, Thy wrath pursues the mourner there,

And drives her, weeping, thence.

She seeks the brook, the faithless brook,

Of her unmindful grown,
Feels the chill magic of thy look,

And lingers into stone.

She wooes her embryo-flowers in vain

To rear their infant heads ;-
Deaf to her voice, her flowers remain

Enchanted in their beds.

In vain she bids the trees expand

Their green luxuriant charms ;Bare in the wilderness they stand,

And stretch their withering arms.

Her favourite birds, in feeble notes,

Lament thy long delay; And strain their little stammering throats

To charm thy blasts away.

Ah, WINTER! calm thy cruel rage,

Release the struggling year ;
Thy power is past, decrepid Sage!

Arise and disappear.

The stars that graced thy splendid night

Are lost in warmer rays;
The Sun, rejoicing in his might,

Unrolls celestial days.

Then why, usurping Winter, why

Still flags thy frozen wing? Fly, unrelenting tyrant, fly

And yield the year to SPRING!

SONG.

ROUND Love's Elysian bowers

The fairest prospects rise; There bloom the sweetest flowers,

There shine the purest skies : And joy and rapture gild awhile The cloudless heaven of BEAUTY's smile.

Round Love's deserted bowers

Tremendous rocks arise ;
Cold mildews blight the flowers,

Tornadoes rend the skies :
And Pleasure's waning moon goes down
Amid the night of Beauty's frown.

Then Youth, thou fond believer !

The wily Syren shun:
Who trusts the dear Deceiver

Will surely be undone !
When BEAUTY triumphs, ah ! beware!
Her smile is hope !-her frown despair!

LINES

WRITTEN UNDER

A DRAWING OF YARDLEY OAK,

CELEBRATED BY COWPER.

See Hayley's Life and Letters of W. Cowper, Esq.

Of giant oaks, where once the wood
Rang with the battle or the chace,
In stern and lonely grandeur stood.

From age to age, it slowly spread
Its gradual boughs to sun and wind;
From
age