Thou charming native of Dijon[1],
At thy approach my cares are flown,
Sad melancholy is no more,
Which rack’d and plagu’d my soul before.
Whether thy influence incites,
(Sweet influence) to soft delights;
Or else dost other measures keep,
And gently urge to peaceful sleep.
O may’st thou still such streams bestow,
Still with such ruddy torrents flow.