That rise spontaneous in the fertile fields,
Or grace the banks of pure meand’ring rills,
Or love the sunshine on the sloping hills;
With richest gems shall thy bright crown adorn,
Empearl’d with dew-drops from the pointed thorn;
Though eastern monarchs boast their regal state,
On whom unnumber’d slaves obsequious wait,
Though deck’d with all that fills the flaming mine,
How mean their splendor, when compar’d with thine!
For thee again the birds resume their song,