Note: This text has been automatically extracted via Optical Character Recognition (OCR) software.
Poetry.
POETRY .
OCTOBER . BY T ) R . PERFECT . ' Those virgin leaves of purest vivid green , ' Which charm'd ere yet they trembled on the trees ,
' Now cheer the sober landscape in decay . ' THOMSON . Or visage deep-wrinkled with care , Whose temples oak garlands surround , With haws and with acorns his hair , 'Mid starwort and saffron is bound ; The damson her purple bestows ,
A sash round his shoulder to throw , In negligence easy it flows , Commingled with spots of the sloe . His right hand a scorpion retains , High-lifted it writhes in the air ; His left a rush basket sustains , Replete with . the cheanut and pear ;' Whose franchise it is to invoke
Thick fogs of blue mist on the hill , Ascending like columns of smoke , Exhal'd from the vale-loving rill . He comes!—shall my muse wake the reed ? Ah I where are the notes of the bough ? So late where the beech in the mead Attested the villager's vows ;
when Philomel ' s evening lay Prorlaim'd her melodious pain ; The . kids with the lambkins in piay , Skipt frolicksome over the plain . She flies from the yellow-leav'd grove , Nor sings of past pleasure serene , When zephyrs invited to love , And Delia was Extacy ' s queen : When
near the smooth lapse of the brook I sought , thro' the whispering vale , The roses , which painting her crook , Compar ' tl to her blushes , were pale . No more to the brook must 1 stray , From the whispering vallies exil'd , Nor longer fond zephyrs shall play Round Delia that lingei'd and smil'd
. Farewell to the boweri / ig hop , riie garden so fair to the sight , i et woodbine now blooming I'll crop , Convey to my fair with delight . I'll seek for autumnal perfume , i he suckle rejects not her sweets , Lonvolvules offer their bloom
, j J ' o decorate Delia ' s retreats , - " je pheasant I'd bear to my maid , « ut shrink from the present with fear , i-est into soft sorrow betrav'd , "er eyes be suffus'd with a tear .
To Earth s fost ' nng bosom the swam , Tenacious of Nature's command , Consigns with attention the grain So grateful to Industry ' s hand . The martin the cave ., has forsook . The woodcock re-visits the glen , The mallard repairs to the brook , The wild-goose abandons the fen . Shall ine with murder be join'd ?
rap O , spare from perdition the hive ! Some process , by far less unkind , To plunder its treasures contrive ! Now hear the loud pack o'er the field , In trace of the fugitive hare ; No longer in safety ronceal'd , She trusts to the brake or the tare . But what is this envoy of woes , Who wakes with
Aurora ' s first ray , His tuneful complaints to disclose , From suckle or jessamine spray : He sings desolations to come , Stern Winter predicts from aloof ? My shed , social bird , be thy home , In safety perch under my roof . Dost grieve that the Summer is past , The trees their
green ornaments shed . That omens of Winter so fast Impending press over thy head ? Prolong , gentle red-breast , thy strain . Contagious shall usher thy moan , My sympathies share in thv pain , Thy sorrows , poor bird , ' be my own . Pomonain stra-v-colour'd vest
, . , With berry-strung black solitaire . The gossamer's gauze on her breast , And marigold ' s beams in her hair , October had met in the close , Paid court to her presence and shape ; Vertumnus in jealousy rose , Suspecting the god of the grape .
But he was deiang'd in the vale , Whilst Satyrs his orgies sustain , My paths from his feasts I'll curtail , And fly his incontinent train . Yet , Bacchus , lo honour thy sway . The fig and the vine let me bring ; Tho' the muse , for the present , delay The games of thy vintage to sing . Now mid-day is silent around
, The gloom of the ag'd cypress I'll seek-Yon turf , by the osier fresh bound . My heartfelt dejection shall speak . Leander , my much-valued friend , The muse in remembrance essavs , From friendship , in .-adtiess lo send What elegy weaves into lays .
Note: This text has been automatically extracted via Optical Character Recognition (OCR) software.
Poetry.
POETRY .
OCTOBER . BY T ) R . PERFECT . ' Those virgin leaves of purest vivid green , ' Which charm'd ere yet they trembled on the trees ,
' Now cheer the sober landscape in decay . ' THOMSON . Or visage deep-wrinkled with care , Whose temples oak garlands surround , With haws and with acorns his hair , 'Mid starwort and saffron is bound ; The damson her purple bestows ,
A sash round his shoulder to throw , In negligence easy it flows , Commingled with spots of the sloe . His right hand a scorpion retains , High-lifted it writhes in the air ; His left a rush basket sustains , Replete with . the cheanut and pear ;' Whose franchise it is to invoke
Thick fogs of blue mist on the hill , Ascending like columns of smoke , Exhal'd from the vale-loving rill . He comes!—shall my muse wake the reed ? Ah I where are the notes of the bough ? So late where the beech in the mead Attested the villager's vows ;
when Philomel ' s evening lay Prorlaim'd her melodious pain ; The . kids with the lambkins in piay , Skipt frolicksome over the plain . She flies from the yellow-leav'd grove , Nor sings of past pleasure serene , When zephyrs invited to love , And Delia was Extacy ' s queen : When
near the smooth lapse of the brook I sought , thro' the whispering vale , The roses , which painting her crook , Compar ' tl to her blushes , were pale . No more to the brook must 1 stray , From the whispering vallies exil'd , Nor longer fond zephyrs shall play Round Delia that lingei'd and smil'd
. Farewell to the boweri / ig hop , riie garden so fair to the sight , i et woodbine now blooming I'll crop , Convey to my fair with delight . I'll seek for autumnal perfume , i he suckle rejects not her sweets , Lonvolvules offer their bloom
, j J ' o decorate Delia ' s retreats , - " je pheasant I'd bear to my maid , « ut shrink from the present with fear , i-est into soft sorrow betrav'd , "er eyes be suffus'd with a tear .
To Earth s fost ' nng bosom the swam , Tenacious of Nature's command , Consigns with attention the grain So grateful to Industry ' s hand . The martin the cave ., has forsook . The woodcock re-visits the glen , The mallard repairs to the brook , The wild-goose abandons the fen . Shall ine with murder be join'd ?
rap O , spare from perdition the hive ! Some process , by far less unkind , To plunder its treasures contrive ! Now hear the loud pack o'er the field , In trace of the fugitive hare ; No longer in safety ronceal'd , She trusts to the brake or the tare . But what is this envoy of woes , Who wakes with
Aurora ' s first ray , His tuneful complaints to disclose , From suckle or jessamine spray : He sings desolations to come , Stern Winter predicts from aloof ? My shed , social bird , be thy home , In safety perch under my roof . Dost grieve that the Summer is past , The trees their
green ornaments shed . That omens of Winter so fast Impending press over thy head ? Prolong , gentle red-breast , thy strain . Contagious shall usher thy moan , My sympathies share in thv pain , Thy sorrows , poor bird , ' be my own . Pomonain stra-v-colour'd vest
, . , With berry-strung black solitaire . The gossamer's gauze on her breast , And marigold ' s beams in her hair , October had met in the close , Paid court to her presence and shape ; Vertumnus in jealousy rose , Suspecting the god of the grape .
But he was deiang'd in the vale , Whilst Satyrs his orgies sustain , My paths from his feasts I'll curtail , And fly his incontinent train . Yet , Bacchus , lo honour thy sway . The fig and the vine let me bring ; Tho' the muse , for the present , delay The games of thy vintage to sing . Now mid-day is silent around
, The gloom of the ag'd cypress I'll seek-Yon turf , by the osier fresh bound . My heartfelt dejection shall speak . Leander , my much-valued friend , The muse in remembrance essavs , From friendship , in .-adtiess lo send What elegy weaves into lays .