Joy Rul'd The Day, And Love The

For Thee, Sweet Month; The Groves Green Liveries Wear. If Not The First, The Fairest Of The Year; For Thee The Graces Lead The Dancing Hours, And Nature's Ready Pencil Paints The Flowers. When Thy Short Reign Is Past, The Feverish Sun The Sultry Tropic Fears, And Moves More Slowly On.

When We View Elevated Ideas Of Nature, The Result Of That View Is Admiration, Which Is Always The Cause Of Pleasure.

How Easy 'tis, When Destiny Proves Kind, With Full-spread Sails To Run Before The Wind!

Thus All Below Is Strength, And All Above Is Grace.

Of All The Tyrannies On Human Kind The Worst Is That Which Persecutes The Mind.