Composed On Easter Sunday

Erewhile to celebrate this glorious morn That saw the unvanquished Saviour of mankind Rise from the grave, the Ruler and the Hind Put on fresh raiment, till that hour unworn, Fair cloth of home-bred wool which he had shorn, Her hands had spun, culling her daintiest fleece, Such reverence paid they to the Prince of Peace. O blest estate, when Piety sublime These humble props disdained not! Are thy flowers Banished for aye, from Britain's hills and vales Extinct, or lingering in a happier clime, Where our abused inventions are unknown And benefits are weighed in Reason's scales?

ED.