The Rhode Island American, And General Advertiser

SELECTED
THE SEASONS.

I love the soft-eyed graces, the varying charms,
Which on the earth's enamell'd bosom play,
When nature bursts from April's humid arms,
And springs impatient to the ides of May.

I love the ripening beam, the fervid glow
Which crown with full maturity the year
When busy Summer shews his swarthy brow,
And severs from its roots the bending ear.

I love the rich profusion Autumn yields
When, in his partly colour'd robes array'd,
He treads triumphant o'er the lighten'd fields
And binds their rifled honours round his head.

I love the bright effulgence Winter wears.
When o'er the plains his fleecy showers descend,
And the soft gems which shivering nature bears,
From the rude blast and piercing frost defend.

I love—but ah! such matchless beauties rise,
So thick the forms of varied goodness throng
That sweet confusion dims my wondering eyes,
And swelling transport overpowers my song.

For still the impress of a hand divine,
Marks each mutation of this earthly ball,
Thro' all its scenes apparent bounties shine;
Fountain of light and life! I love them all.