Mars has looked the sky to red;
And Peace, the lazy God,[74] is fled.
Plenty, peace, and pleasure fly;
The sprightly green,
In woodland-walks, no more is seen;
The sprightly green has drunk the Tyrian dye.
Cho. of all. Plenty, peace, &c.
Mars. Sound the trumpet, beat the drum;
Through all the world around,
Sound a reveillé, sound, sound,