At this due season through creation runs,
Nor in the first creation more express’d
Than by the singing builder of the nest
That waves on this year’s leaf, or by the rose
That underneath them in his glory glows;
Life’s fountain, flower, and crown; without whose giving
Life itself were not, nor, without, worth living.
Chorus of Voices. Life’s fountain, flower, and crown; without whose giving
Life itself were not, nor, without, worth living.
Song.