Let hearts that are grateful in gratitude crown
The friend of the many and foe of the few;
Let souls in their secret admiring enthrone
Whatever a martyr or minion may do;
But down in my bosom while reasonings reign,
Of friendship and love there is never a dearth
For him who is toiling in pleasure or pain,
The farmer, the lord and the king of the earth.




"NATURE HAS A THOUSAND CHOIRS."


Nature has a thousand choirs
Singing in the sylvan shadows,
And the music of her lyres
Echoes in the merry meadows;
Always glad with golden glee
Sounds her happy melody,
Swelling wild in fairy measure
With the songs of purest pleasure.

Where the dancing fountains play
Winding warbles shake and shiver,
And soft carols rise alway
From the ripples of the river;
Sweetest voices fondly call
From the fleecy waterfall,