My trembling song! awake! arise!
And early tell thy tuneful tale,
Tell thy great Master, that the Night is gone;
The feeble phantoms disappear,
And now the New-Year's welcome Sun
O'erspreads the eastern skies;
He smiles on every hill, he smiles on every vale.
His glories fill our hemisphere;
Tell Him Apollo greets Him well,
10And with his fellow Wanderers agrees