To The Reverend Mr. Newton. An Invitation Into The Country.
The swallows in their torpid state Compose their useless wing, And bees in hives as idly wait The call of early Spring. The keenest frost that binds the stream, The wildest wind that blows, Are neither felt nor feard by them, Secure of their repose. But man, all feeling and awake, The gloomy scene surveys; With present ills his heart must ache, And pant for brighter days. Old Winter, halting oer the mead, Bids me and Mary mourn; But lovely Spring peeps oer his head, And whispers your return. Then April, with her sister May, Shall chase him from the bowers, And weave fresh garlands every day, To crown the smiling hours. And if a tear that speaks regret Of happier times, appear, A glimpse of joy, that we have met, Shall shine, and dry the tear.
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"The swallows in their torpid state..."
"To The Reverend Mr. Newton. An Invitation Into The Country." is a quintessential example of William Cowper's signature style... ### Why We Love This Line At Linespedia, we believe that poetry is the ultimate sanctuary for the soul...