Ode, An

DA CAPO. Rec :

See! the sacred scion springs,
See the glad promise of a line of kings. Aria :

Royal youth, what bard divine
Equal to a praise like thine,
Shall in some exalted measure
Sing thee Britain's dearest treasure;
Who her joy in thee shall tell;
Who a sprightly note shall swell?

DA CAPO. Aria :

Ye golden lights who shine on high,
Ye potent planets who ascend the sky,
On this happy day dispense
All your kindest influence;
Heav'nly Pow'rs be all prepared
For George and Caroline's guard.
Britannia's Angel, be thou near;
The growing race is now thy care:
Oh! spread thy wings above the fair.

DA CAPO. Rec :

Hence then with every anxious care;
Begone, pale Envy, and thou cold Despair;
But thou, Hope with smiling cheer,
Do thou bring the ready year. Aria :

Flora sweet, her bounty spreads,
Smelling gardens, painted meads;
Ceres crowns the yellow plain;
Pan rewards the shepherd's pain.
All is plenty, all is wealth,
And on the balmy air sits rosy-coloured health.

DA CAPO. Chorus :

Father of thy country, hail!
Always everywhere prevail;
Pious, valiant, just and wise,
Better suns for thee arise;
Purer breezes fan the skies.
Earth in fruits and flow'rs is dressed;
Joy abounds in every breast;
For thee thy people all, for thee the year is blessed.
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