When upon yon spot it stood,
Like a rolling billow came,
Hast'ning on to join the flood.
Be then the beginning found
With the end in unison,
Swifter than the forms around
Are themselves now fleeting on!
Thank the merit in thy breast,
Thank the mould within thy heart,
That the Muses' favour blest
Ne'er will perish, ne'er depart.
1803.* ——- TABLE SONG.
[Composed for the merry party already mentioned, on the occasion of the departure for France of the hereditary prince, who was one of the number, and who is especially alluded to in the 3rd verse.]
O'ER me—how I cannot say,—
Heav'nly rapture's growing.
Will it help to guide my way