Who guides Arcturus and his boisterous sons,
Binds the sweet influence of the Pleiades,
And breaks Orion’s broad and sparkling bonds,
All hearts, with one accord, in reverence bow,
And pure thanksgiving peals from every tongue.
The service done, they seek their cheerful hearths
To spend the hallowed day in feasts of love.
The feast is set—and joy’s wild burst is o’er—
The mother’s eye has marked the vacant chair—
The father’s ear has missed his first-born’s step—