James Beattie

Or merry swains, who quaff the nut-brown ale,
And sing enamour'd of the nut-brown maid.

Or merry swains, who quaff the nut-brown ale,
And sing enamour'd of the nut-brown maid.

How sweet the words of Truth, breath'd from the lips of Love.

How sweet the words of Truth, breath'd from the lips of Love.

Ah! who can tell how hard it is to climb
The steep where Fame's proud temple shines afar!

Ah! who can tell how hard it is to climb
The steep where Fame's proud temple shines afar!

Zealous, yet modest; innocent, though free;
Patient of toil; serene amidst alarms;
Inflexible in faith; invincible in read more

Zealous, yet modest; innocent, though free;
Patient of toil; serene amidst alarms;
Inflexible in faith; invincible in arms.

No jealousy their dawn of love o'ercast,
Nor blasted were their wedded days with strife;
Each season read more

No jealousy their dawn of love o'ercast,
Nor blasted were their wedded days with strife;
Each season looked delightful as it past,
To the fond husband and the faithful wife.