Now sheath'd is the Sword that was wild as the blast:
The Tempest of Slaughter and Terror is past;
Old
ON her Neighbour all smilingly hails—For the
VE of
CE blooms again in our Vales! Beam on the day, Thou Olive gay: "Matchless is he Who planted thee; And mayst thou like him immortal be!"Divinest of Olives,
O, never was seenA bloom so enchanting, a verdure so green!
Sweet, sweet do thy Beauties entwiningly
In the Vine-tree of France and the Oak of our Isle! Beam on the day, Thou Olive gay, &c.
Long, long did thy envied Exotic delay, 'Till the voice of
TY charm'd thee away;
And here, ever here mayst thou bloom in repose,
As firm as our Oak-tree, and gay as the Rose! Bloom on the day, Thou Olive gay, &c.
Let
ES his Poplar of Majesty prize,
And
US her Myrtle exalt to the skies:
CE and
ON excell all the Gods of old Greece—For they crown their wise heads with the
VE of
CE! Bloom on the day, Thou Olive gay, &c.
The delicate Lily may gracefully mount,
And the Pink all her charms with the Rainbow recount;
Green, green is the Olive on
ON'S brow,
And the Lily and Pink to the Olive must bow! Bloom on the day, Thou Olive gay, &c.
Thou Olive divine, may Eternity's Sun Beam warm where thy roots thro' the ages shall run;
The Dew of Affection 'light soft where they twine,
And the Love of an Universe stamp thee divine! Bloom on the day, Thou Olive gay: "Matchless was he Who planted thee; And mayst thou like him immortal be!"
