Note: This text has been automatically extracted via Optical Character Recognition (OCR) software.
Poetry.
POETRY .
FOR THE FREEMASONS' MAGAZINE , TO THE PRIMROSE .
BY X . P . THOU modest harbinger of Spring ! Whose snoAvy bosom , half display'd , Would fain the rays of Phcebus bring , To court thee in thy loAvly glade ; Well do I greet thy glad return
, Hateful to tyrant Winter ' s eyes ; Who noAV , on Avinged tempests borne . In darkness hides his face and flies . For IIOAV no more the shiA' ' ring SAVain His fingers blows , and strikes his chest ; Or seeks , thro'driving snoAV and rain , His hovel ' s Avonted warmth and rest .
No more his Avife ' s fond bosom aches ( Her darling wedded to the wave ) , When in the gloom of night she Avakes , And hears abroad the tempest rave .
E ' en savage War , with all his train Of sighs , and tears , and cries of Avoe , His mangled living heaps of slain , Assumes a less terrific brow . And IIOAV the brakes , Avith eager haste , Their light green foliage expand , Anxious to guard their tenant ' s nest
From truant schoolboy ' s cruel , hand . At home the patient female sits , And waits the chirping callow throng ; Th' enraptur'd mate around her flits , And cheers her labours with his song . And now once more I hope to gaze On scenes my early childhood knew , When yet unknown to care ' ray days , And wing'd with joy the moments fleAV .
She too shall visit 'he blest isle * , The object of my fondest love ! Ancl I Avill banquet on the smile Which shall my childhood feats approve !
Note: This text has been automatically extracted via Optical Character Recognition (OCR) software.
Poetry.
POETRY .
FOR THE FREEMASONS' MAGAZINE , TO THE PRIMROSE .
BY X . P . THOU modest harbinger of Spring ! Whose snoAvy bosom , half display'd , Would fain the rays of Phcebus bring , To court thee in thy loAvly glade ; Well do I greet thy glad return
, Hateful to tyrant Winter ' s eyes ; Who noAV , on Avinged tempests borne . In darkness hides his face and flies . For IIOAV no more the shiA' ' ring SAVain His fingers blows , and strikes his chest ; Or seeks , thro'driving snoAV and rain , His hovel ' s Avonted warmth and rest .
No more his Avife ' s fond bosom aches ( Her darling wedded to the wave ) , When in the gloom of night she Avakes , And hears abroad the tempest rave .
E ' en savage War , with all his train Of sighs , and tears , and cries of Avoe , His mangled living heaps of slain , Assumes a less terrific brow . And IIOAV the brakes , Avith eager haste , Their light green foliage expand , Anxious to guard their tenant ' s nest
From truant schoolboy ' s cruel , hand . At home the patient female sits , And waits the chirping callow throng ; Th' enraptur'd mate around her flits , And cheers her labours with his song . And now once more I hope to gaze On scenes my early childhood knew , When yet unknown to care ' ray days , And wing'd with joy the moments fleAV .
She too shall visit 'he blest isle * , The object of my fondest love ! Ancl I Avill banquet on the smile Which shall my childhood feats approve !