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 | Columbia's glory |  |
And now, thy race of glory run,
Grac'd with the laurels thou hast won
In the illustrious strife,
(Like Cincinnatus to his plow)
With what majestic dignity hast THOU,
By all applauded as by all admir'd,
From the tumultuous public stage retir'd
To the calm mansions of a rural life;
(A life thy placid genius chose).
In peaceful fields and quiet farms,
No more molested by the din of arms,
T'enjoy, as heretofore,
Pleasures which solitude alone bestows,
The sweets of philosophic lore,
And elegant repose.
Grac'd with the laurels thou hast won
In the illustrious strife,
(Like Cincinnatus to his plow)
With what majestic dignity hast THOU,
By all applauded as by all admir'd,
From the tumultuous public stage retir'd
To the calm mansions of a rural life;
(A life thy placid genius chose).
17
No more molested by the din of arms,
T'enjoy, as heretofore,
Pleasures which solitude alone bestows,
The sweets of philosophic lore,
And elegant repose.
| Columbia's glory | |