University of Virginia Library

A TRIO

SWAIN.
How imperfect the joys of the soul!
How insipid life's journey must be!
How unsocial the seasons must roll,
To the wretches who dare not be free!

NYMPH.
Ev'ry youth loyal courage can fire,
To the fair kind and constant must prove;
British maids shall their merit admire,
And reward them with beauty and love.

CHORUS.
Blooming plenty shall smile on our fields;
Sweet contentment shall prompt us to sing;
And our own be what industry yields,
Long as George, gracious George! is our king.

SWAIN.
Nought but liberty life can refine;
'Tis the wreath with which England is crown'd;
See, we're bless'd with the oak and the vine!
And we drain the bowl all the year round.

NYMPH.
Oh, may honour glow bright in each breast!
And the faithless may infamy brand!
To the nation they always are best
Who are true to the nymphs of the land.

CHORUS.
Blooming plenty shall smile on our fields;
Sweet contentment shall prompt us to sing,
And our own be what industry yields,
Long as George, gracious George! is our king.

SWAIN.
Let us wake when our genius inspires;
Let no follies our virtue enslave;
Let us prove ourselves great as our sires,
And rise Britons, as glorious as brave.

NYMPH.
Let the foes of Britannia proceed;
Let them rouse up revenge if they dare;
Still we've heroes enough that will bleed
For their country, their king, and the fair.

CHORUS.
Blooming plenty shall smile on our fields;
Sweet contentment shall prompt us to sing,
And our own be what industry yields,
Long as George, gracious George! is our king.