April 1, 1760.
RETURN OF SPRING
Welcome bless'd season of the year,
My heart is glad at thy return
April proclaims the summer near;
Rejoice, ye swains, no longer mourn.
The stormy winter now is o'er,
The nipping frosts begin to cease;
Awake, my heart, adore the Power
That forms creation as he please.
He bids the northern breezes blow;
The piercing wind obeys the Lord:
His hand bestrews the falling snow,
And nature trembles at his word.
Again he rolls the seasons round;
Once more the blooming spring appears;
A thousand beauties clothe the ground,
And earth her brightest garment wears.
Once more my wishful eyes shall see
Nature put on her gay attire;
The grassy mead, the budding tree,
I'll view with transport, and admire.
Oft wakeful with the rising dawn,
I'll watch fair Phœbus gently rise;
My feet shall tread the flowery lawn,
With inward pleasure and surprise.
I'll join the songsters of the grove;
The lark shall teach my matin song;
Of her I'll learn to mount above,
And praise my God with thankful tongue.
I'll strive more grateful thanks to pay;
With all the winged tribe I'll vie;
'Your Lord for me took human clay,
To live for me, for me to die.'
Thus my enraptur'd soul shall sing,
Creating and redeeming grace;
And thus improve the cheerful spring
With songs of gratitude and praise.
This morning I did not rise till nearly six. After my usual devotions, I entered upon the labours of the day, during which I composed the foregoing meditation. At noon I was too prodigal of my time; in the afternoon I was not so comfortable as in the former part of the day. In the evening I went to the meeting; Mr Crabtree was there; he talked very closely to one of our number, who seems to be too much taken up with the things of this present evil world.
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