Kind Heaven will oft a lesson give
If mortals are inclined to learn;
To shew how simplest things that live,
To kindness make a rich return.

Tho' fiction speaks of dying notes,
Sung by the swan in death resign'd;
Is there a tribe, that flies or floats,
Of sense, or feeling, less refin'd?

Yet simple as this bird we deem,
My faithful ballad shall attest,
One Swan displayed on Thames's stream,
A feeling and a friendly breast

Cecilia liv'd on Thames's bank,
A young and lovely married fair;
To creatures kind of every rank,
A favourite Swan had own'd her care.

Her lord, a merchant, frank and young,
By probity was known to thrive;
Their bliss enliven'd every tongue,
They were the happiest pair alive;

For to increase their nuptial joy
And their domestic scene adorn;
Heaven crown'd their blessings with a boy,
A finer boy was never born.