Here take thy rest, securely reign,
See Phœbus shines more bright;
Here will we this great day adorn,
Till Cynthea with her silver horn,
Illuminates the night.
A bridge o’er Tyne! our joy’s complete,
With rapture we its author greet,
Our breasts exult and sing;
This bliss consummates all our care.
Now Hexham and Elysium are,