| Citation |
CG-NH.767.008
11 Apr 1767:41,42 (556)
A COROLLARY.
Now may the earth with acclamations ring,
While I a song of my love's vinyard sing.
Come, tune your lyre with the profoundest skill,
Sing my love's vinyard planted on a hill.
. . . [46 more lines]
May I, with freedom, tune my baleful song
Unto each town to which be do belong.
And in my song I would be understood,
They'd medicate and think on us for Good.
Now may my song, with a respectful tone,
Directed be to rulers on the throne.
and had I but a skillful learned tongue,
I'd tune their praise in a melodious song.
Or had I but an elevated brain,
I'd tune my lyre in a celestial strain.
And while the miser muddles in his wealth,
I'd sing my noble peers a royal health;
. . . [18 more lines]
When passing bells their dissolution tolls,
May guardian angels then conduct their souls,
Through realms of light, to faithful Abraham,
To sing the song of Moses and the lamb.
. . . [7 more lines]
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