Poetry Archives

Fair Child of Sun and Summer! we behold
With eager eyes thy wings bedropp’d with gold;
The purple spots that o’er thy mantle spread,
The sapphire’s lively blue, the ruby’s red,
Ten thousand various blended tints surprise,
Beyond the rainbow’s hues or peacock’s eyes:
Not Judah’s king in eastern pomp array’d,
Whose charms allur’d from far the Sheban maid,
High on his glitt’ring throne, like you could shine
(Nature’s completest miniature divine):
For thee the rose her balmy buds renews,
And silver lilies fill their cups with dews;
Flora for thee the laughing fields perfumes,
For thee Pomona sheds her choicest blooms,
Soft Zephyr wafts thee on his gentlest gales
O’er Hackwood’s sunny hill and verdant vales;
For thee, gay queen of insects! do we rove
From walk to walk, from beauteous grove to grove;
And let the critics know, whose pedant pride
And awkward jests our sprightly sport deride:
That all who honours, fame, or wealth pursue,
Change but the name of things—they hunt for you.