Blushful

[F]rom his [Summer's] ardent look the turning Spring / Averts her blushful face; and earth, and ſkies, / All-ſmiling, to his hot dominion leaves.

She was particularly pleased with the wine, which at not infrequent intervals she tasted. Beyond all doubt it promised to be of vintage quality. Clearly the long hot summer had put more than a little pep into the berries. Yes, she told herself as she tasted it again, this was the true, the blushful, the real McCoy.