Now, to pant on Thetis' breast,
Phœbus blushes down the west;
And, in laughter seems to say,
Mortals, end like me the day!
Join ye merry rural throng,
Mirth, and music, dance and song.

Nature's free-born subject train,
Blooming tenants of the plain,
'Tis for us the goddess spreads
Verdant meads, and flow'ry beds:
While the varying seasons flow,
Beauty bids our bosoms glow;

Ev'ry nymph, and ev'ry youth,
Melt with fondness warm with truth;
Sunny vale, and shady grove,
Echo to the voice of love;
And the changeful year supplies
Pleasure to the heart and eyes.

Far from noise, from pomp and state,
Joys and troubles of the great,
Shelter'd by contentment's wings,
Here the bird of rapture sings;
While the god of soft delight
Glads the noon, and chears the night:
Ever happy, ever gay,
Life is here one holiday.