... out in the fields play. And the bees round the flow'rets humming; It seems spring with her balmy breath, Hath wakened all things from their sleep of death. The Ut*s which were lately so black and bare, And wintry blasts were shaken, They seem'd as emblem of human care, fortune's smiles forsaken; But now, their glory and pride are seen, their wiih robes of green. The mill stream's no more bound ...