The Columbian Songtser, Song

With thankful hearts and cheerful voice, Let all the nymphs and swains rejoice, And singing merry make; The plenteous harvest now secure, Let old and young the pleasures pure Of rural life partake.

The barns now fill'd with hay and grain, To spend when storms of snow and rain Wide devastation brings; Each breast let gratitude possess, Each willing foul forever bless The Giver of good things.

Set round the board like christian friends, Let us partake what Heaven sends, The produce of the earth: Let foreign spirits ne'er intrude, To make us angry, rough, or rude, And poison all our mirth.

The jovial song and lively dance, The joys of human life advance, Let no one then be sad; Why with dull superstition's cloud, Should we th'Almighty's image shroud, When scripture bids be glad?

Then let the hardy jovial swain, That lately mow'd the flow'ry plain, Unbend himself awhile; And Susan quit her spinning wheel, And join to dance the country reel, Forgetting all her toil.

The contemplative mind of age, And sedate philosophic sage, Will join the social band: While music's most enchanting sound, And joy and virtue dance around, Forever hand in hand.