"For us the lark attunes his morning song,
"For us the spring depeints her ev'ry flow'r,
"To sooth our sleep yon fountain purls along,
"And oaks to shade us, twine into a bow'r,
"The pensive bard sits many a watchful hour,
"In ditty sweet, to carol forth our praise:
"While valour spends his days in dole and stour,
"We, wiser we, undying trophies raise
"To ever-blooming bliss, ne reek what wisdom says.