For this in Autumn searcha#39;d the blooming waste, Nor lost one sunny gleam.agt; for this sad fate? O Man! tyrannic lord! how long ., how long, Shall prosirate Nature groan beneath your rage , Awaiting renovation? When obliged, Must you destroy .
|Title||:||The seasons ... A new edition ... To which is prefixed An essay on the plan and character of the poem, by J. Aikin|