Page:The Seasons - Thomson (1791).djvu/108

Drooping all night; and, whem he warm returns,
Points her enamour'd bosom to his ray.

Home, from his morning task, the swain retreats; 220
His flock before him stepping to the fold:
While the full-udder'd mother lows around
The chearful cottage, then expelling food,
The food of innocence, and health! the daw
The rook and magpie, to the grey-grown oaks 225
That the calm village in their verdant arms,
Sheltering, embrace direct their lazy flight;
Where on the mingling boughs they fit embower'd,
All the hot noon, till cooler hours arise.
Faint, underneath, the houshold fowls convene; 230
And, in a corner of the buzzing shade,
The house-dog, with the vacant greyhound, lies,
Out-stretch'd, and sleepy. In his slumbers one
Attacks the nightly thief, and one exults
O'er hill and dale; till wakened by the wasp, 235
They starting snap. Nor shall the Muse disdain
To let the little noisy summer-race
Live in her lay, and flutter through her songs
Not mean tho' simple: to the sun ally'd,
From him they draw their animating fire. 240

Wak'd by his warmer ray, the reptile young
Come wing'd abroad; by the light air upborn,
Lighter, and full of soul. From every chink,
And secret corner, where they slept away
The wintry storms; or rising from their tombs, 245
To higher life; by myriads, forth at once,
Swarming they pour; of all the vary'd hues
Their beauty-beaming parent can disclose.
Ten thousand forms! ten thousand different tribes!
People the blaze. To sunny waters some 250
By fatal instinct fly; where on the pool

They,