The youthful Spring shall call for birth,5
And glad with op’ning flow’rs the Earth:
Fair Summer lead with Sheaves the Field,
And golden Fruit shall Autumn yield,
Each to the Winter’s want their store shall bring,
’Till warmer genial Suns recall the Spring.10
Air.
Ye grateful Britons bless the Year,
That kindly yields increase,
While plenty that might feed a War,