208
Tixall Poetry.
What made a spring, in midst of winter to advance,
And the cold seasons leap into a youthfull dance,
To rouse the drooping year?
Was this by miracle, or did they rise
By the bright beams of Anastasia's eyes?
To light our frozen clime,
And, happily for us, mistook their time?
'Twas so, and 'twas imported in her name;
From her, their glorious resurrection came,
And she renewed their perisht flame.
The God of nature did the same:
His birth the depth of winter did adorn,
And she, to marriage then, her second birth was born.
Her pious family, in every state,
Their great Redeemer well can imitate.
They have a right in heaven, an early place;
The beauteous bride is of a martyr's race:
And he above, with joy looks down,
I see, I see him blaze with his immortall crown.
He, on her nuptials, does his beams dispense,
Blessing the day with better influence;
He looks from heaven with joy, and gives her joy from thence.
And the cold seasons leap into a youthfull dance,
To rouse the drooping year?
Was this by miracle, or did they rise
By the bright beams of Anastasia's eyes?
To light our frozen clime,
And, happily for us, mistook their time?
'Twas so, and 'twas imported in her name;
From her, their glorious resurrection came,
And she renewed their perisht flame.
The God of nature did the same:
His birth the depth of winter did adorn,
And she, to marriage then, her second birth was born.
Her pious family, in every state,
Their great Redeemer well can imitate.
They have a right in heaven, an early place;
The beauteous bride is of a martyr's race:
And he above, with joy looks down,
I see, I see him blaze with his immortall crown.
He, on her nuptials, does his beams dispense,
Blessing the day with better influence;
He looks from heaven with joy, and gives her joy from thence.
