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Then like bees from a hive, men ſart up reviv'd,
at the ſight of bright Phœbus's ray;
Some whiſtle, ſome ſing; all welcome the Spring,
which drove the cold Winter away.
The peaſant and peer, with ſpirits that's clear,
repairs to their labour and ſport,
The court, and its ſtate, with attendants that's great,
to the gardens and fields do reſort.
In the Spring of the year, when the ladies appear,
in colours all glorious and gay,
Which nothing ſurpaſs, but lilies and graſs,
that drove the cold Winter away.
See trees how they bud, ſee birds how they ſtud,
hear cows how they low for their young,
On each rape and buſh, the black bird and thruſh,
in concert join chorus and ſong.
See fowls of the air, how they lovingly pair,
ſee lambs how they ſkip all—and play:
In mirth there's no bounds, all nature reſounds,
Which drives the cold Winter away.
The ploughman with ſpeed, and a ſack full of feed,
the carter drives out with his teams;
The ſhepherd with crook, and the angler with hook,
repairs to the vallies and ſtreams.
The farmer with brake, and the gard'ner with rake,
all chearfully work out the day;
Some whiſtle, ſome ſing, all welcome the Spring,
which drove the cold Winter away.
Let miſery pack, and a whip at her back,
down—down the tartarian flood:
And let envy be drown'd, with malice new crown'd,
he who envies any man's good,
May good fortune attend ev'ry merry man's friend,
that does the beſt that he may:
Forgetting all wrong, in a cup and a ſong,
we'll drive the cold Winter away.
