Thou fairest, sweetest daughter of the skies,
Indulgent, gentle, life restoring Peace!
With what auspicious beauties dost thou rise,
And Britain’s new-revolving Janus bless!

Hoary Winter smiles before thee,
Dances merrily along:
Hours and seasons all adore thee,
And for thee are ever young:
Ever, goddess, thus appear,
Ever lead the joyful year.

In thee the night, in thee the day is blest;
In thee the dearest of the purple east:
’Tis thine immortal pleasures to impart,
Mirth to inspire, and raise the drooping heart:
To thee the pipe and tuneful string belong,
Thou theme eternal for the poet’s song.

Awake the golden lyre,
Ye Heliconian choir;
Swell every note still higher,
And melody inspire
At Heaven and Earth’s desire.

Hark, how the sounds agree,
With due complacency!
Sweet Peace, ’tis allby thee,
For thou art harmony.

Who, by Nature’s fairest creatures,
Can describe her heavenly features?
What comparison can fit her?
Sweet are roses, she is sweeter;
Light is good, but Peace is better.
Would you see her such as Jove
Form’d for universal love,
Bless’d by men and gods above?
Would you every feature trace,
Every sweetly smiling grace?
Seek our Carolina’s face.

Peace and she are Britain’s treasures,
Fruitful in eternal pleasures:
Still their bounty shall increase us,
Still their smiling offspring bless us.
Happy day, when each was given
By Caesar and indulging Heaven.

CHORUS.

Hail, ye celestial pair!
Still let Britannia be your care,
And Peace and Carolina crown the year.