Delightful task, to trace the hand,
In the minute as in the grand,
Of sovereign Deity !
‘Tis holy exercise of mind,
Most valued by the most refin’d.
And by the heaven-exalted mind
Enjoy’d with ecstacy.
Behold beneath, around, above,
Proofs of immeasurable love.
Those powers the host of Heaven illume,
And give the summer’s varied bloom.
Its treasury of sweet perfume,
Its fascinating flowers.
Still may thy lore, Oh Linne! charm,
Still with the love of science warm
The young, the gay, the wise,
Still may the treasures of thy page,
Give youth a charm, and solace age.
And oft retirement’s hour engage,
And sorrows tranquillize.
Cheer’d by th’ amusement they bestow,
I’ve sought the flowers that earliest blow,
From spring till winter lour’d;
Fresh breezes cool’d my fev’rish vein.
Amusement dissipated pain.
Gay health reviv’d my sinking frame,
And healing balsam pour’d.
Nor less Testacea have I sought,
With deepest admiration fraught.
Of all their vivid dyes;
Their well proportion’d spires’ ascent,
Their foliaceous ornament.
Their varied charms, so competent,
To dazzle and surprise.
from Poems on conchology and botany: with plates and notes, by Sarah Hoare
London: Simpkin & Marshal / Bristol: Wright and Bagnall, 1831
Available on the Internet Archive: Link
This is one in a series of neglected poems taken from the Internet Archive.