The Sun, in new-born splendour drest,
Drives sable clouds away.

Thick vapours from the earth arise,
And pass away unseen,
Till night again shall veil the skies,
Now lucid and serene.

Above proud Offa's gate the gold
Embroider'd banners hung--
And 'scutcheon'd shields emblazon'd told
From whence his race had sprung!

The glitt'ring lance and crested plume
Adorn the sculptur'd wall,
And deep'ning shadows cast a gloom
Around his spacious hall!

On "South Town's" "heav'n directed" fanes
Sol sheds his glowing ray;
And Peace, and Joy, through Mercia's plains
Their gladsome sceptre sway.

How diff'rent far the scene will be
When night appears again;--
O'er all _now_ reigns festivity,
But lamentation _then_!

A richly silver-braided vest
The virgin train prepare--