Wak'd by his warmer ray, the reptile young
Come wing'd abroad; by the light air upborn,
Lighter, and full of life. From every chink,
And secret corner, where they slept away
The wintry glooms, by myriads, all at once,
Swarming, they pour: green, speckled, yellow, grey,
Black, azure, brown; more than th' assisted eye
Of poring virtuoso can discern.
Ten thousand forms! Ten thousand different tribes!
People the blaze. To sunny waters some
By fatal instinct fly; where on the pool
They, sportive, wheel; or, sailing down the stream,
Are snatch'd immediate by the springing Trout,
Often beguil'd. Some thro' the green-wood glade
Delight to stray; there lodg'd, amus'd, and fed,
In the fresh leaf. Luxurious, others make
The meads their choice, and visit every flower,
And every latent herb; but careful still
To shun the mazes of the sounding bee,
As o'er the blooms he sweeps. Some to the house,
The fold, and dairy, hungry, bend their flight;
Sip round the pail, or taste the curdling cheese:
Oft, inadvertent, by the boiling stream
Are pierc'd to death; or, weltering in the bowl,
With powerless wings around them wrapt, expire.