Classic Poem

Forever be His Name ador'd—
His sacred Name, who sheath'd the sword!
And bids the Olive branch divine,
Around the sheaves of Plenty twine!
Whilst Virtue, Peace, and fair Renown,
Adorn our gracious Monarch's crown!
No more the laurel wreath appears,
Bath'd in a nation's flowing tears;
But gentle Hope, with soothing pow'r,
Anticipates the future hour,

When he, the vet'ran Soldier true,
Who ne'er the fears of danger knew,
Or quak'd to hear the cannon roar,
Shall (landed on his native shore)
Enjoy the social, dear repast,
And drop a tender tear at last!

Come Charity! thou Child of Love!
Come from thy azure seat Above!
With pious Gratitude's delight,
And gen'rous Loyalty unite.
So shall the glowing tribute rise,
An incense worthy to the skies!