Joys, which from Change superiour Charms receiv'd,
The Horn hoarse-sounding by the Lyre reliev'd:
When the Day crown'd with rural, chaste Delight,
Resigns obsequious to the festive Night;
The festive Night awakes th' harmonious Lay,
And in sweet Verse recounts the Triumphs of the Day.
The Horn hoarse-sounding by the Lyre reliev'd:
When the Day crown'd with rural, chaste Delight,
Resigns obsequious to the festive Night;
The festive Night awakes th' harmonious Lay,
And in sweet Verse recounts the Triumphs of the Day.
Strange! that the British Muse should leave so long,
The Chace, the Sport of Britain's Kings, unsung!
Distinguish'd Land! by Heav'n indulg'd to breed
The stout, sagacious Hound, and gen'rous Steed;
In vain! while yet no Bard adorn'd our Isle,
To celebrate the glorious sylvan Toil.
Far this what darling Son shall feel thy Fire,
God of th' unerring Bow, and tuneful Lyre?
Our Vows are heard———attend, ye vocal Throng,
Somervile meditates th' advent'rous Song.
The Chace, the Sport of Britain's Kings, unsung!
Distinguish'd Land! by Heav'n indulg'd to breed
The stout, sagacious Hound, and gen'rous Steed;
In vain! while yet no Bard adorn'd our Isle,
To celebrate the glorious sylvan Toil.
Far this what darling Son shall feel thy Fire,
God of th' unerring Bow, and tuneful Lyre?
Our Vows are heard———attend, ye vocal Throng,
Somervile meditates th' advent'rous Song.
