A charming maze thy waters make,
By bowers of birds, and groves of pine,
And hedges flower’d with eglantine.
Still on thy banks so gayly green,
May num’rous herds and flocks be seen,
And lasses chanting o’er the pail,
And shepherds piping in the dale,
And ancient Faith, that knows no guile,
And Industry embrown’d with toil,
And hearts resolved, and hands prepar’d,