| But now the greenest moss she culls with care |
|
|
| O! frail, uncertain state, where shall we find |
|
|
| Thus was the youth by turns a captive led |
|
|
| Once,as she stray'd, by gentle labour led |
|
|
| Home when the maid return'd, with artful tale |
|
|
| Sooner shall Whales their liquid world forsake |
|
|
| Genius of Britain! whose congenial smile |
|
|
| Oft has the Ocean-god, with rapturous gaze |
|
|
| Warm'd by thy breath, that fire shall yet return |
|
|
| Sung at Table by the Same Choir |
|
|