University of Virginia Library

When Plenty o'er the blighted fields
No more her ready sickle wields;
When meadows lose their verdure green,
Nor fruitage on the bough is seen;
When Dearth in meagre form appears,
We ope the hoards of former years;
And in our straiten'd state maintain
Submission firm, till Ceres reign,
In its full bounty, smiles again.