Perfumes the air and paints the land;
The summer suns with vigor shine,
To raise the corn and cheer the vine.
4Thy hand, in autumn, richly pours
Through all our coasts redundant stores;
And winters, softened by thy care,
No more the face of horror wear.
5Seasons, and months, and weeks, and days,
Demand successive songs of praise;
And be the grateful homage paid,