With olives blooming round her head,
And stretch her wings across the deep
To bless the nations with the shade.
Stand on the pile, immortal Fame,
Broad stars adorn thy brightest robe;
Thy thousand voices sound his name
In silver accents round the globe.
Flattery shall faint beneath the sound,
While hoary Truth inspires the song;
Envy grow pale, and bite the ground,