The sound must seem an echo to the sense.
Never was it given to mortal man - To lie so boldly as we women can.
There is a majesty in simplicity.
Pleas'd look forward, pleas'd to look behind,And count each birthday with a grateful mind.
What bosom beast not in his country's cause?
Our rural ancestors, with little blest, Patient of labor when the end was rest, Indulged the day that housed their annual grain, With feasts, and off'rings, and a thankful strain.