Of Flora’s brightest 'broidery shone,
Every checker’d charm is flown;
Save that the lilac hangs to view
Its bursting gems in clusters blue.
Scant along the ridgy land
The beans their new-born ranks expand;
The fresh-turn’d soil, with tender blades,
Thinly the sprouting barley shades:
Fringing the forest’s devious edge,
Half-rob’d appears the hawthorn hedge;