The Olive Of Peace

Now sheath'd is the Sword that was wild as the blast:

The Tempest of Slaughter and Terror is past;

Old ALBION her Neighbour all smilingly hails—

For the OLIVE of PEACE blooms again in our Vales!

                          Beam on the day,

                          Thou Olive gay:

                          "Matchless is he

                          Who planted thee;

    And mayst thou like him immortal be!"

Divinest of Olives, O, never was seen

A bloom so enchanting, a verdure so green!

Sweet, sweet do thy Beauties entwiningly smile

In the Vine-tree of France and the Oak of our Isle!

                          Beam on the day,

                          Thou Olive gay, &c.

Long, long did thy envied Exotic delay,

'Till the voice of HUMANITY charm'd thee away;

And here, ever here mayst thou bloom in repose,

As firm as our Oak-tree, and gay as the Rose!

                          Bloom on the day,

                          Thou Olive gay, &c.

Let ALCIDES his Poplar of Majesty prize,

And VENUS her Myrtle exalt to the skies:

FRANCE and ALBION excell all the Gods of old Greece—

For they crown their wise heads with the OLIVE of PEACE!

                          Bloom on the day,

                          Thou Olive gay, &c.

The delicate Lily may gracefully mount,

And the Pink all her charms with the Rainbow recount;

Green, green is the Olive on ALBION'S brow,

And the Lily and Pink to the Olive must bow!

                          Bloom on the day,

                          Thou Olive gay, &c.

Thou Olive divine, may Eternity's Sun

Beam warm where thy roots thro' the ages shall run;

The Dew of Affection 'light soft where they twine,

And the Love of an Universe stamp thee divine!

                          Bloom on the day,

                          Thou Olive gay:

                          "Matchless was he

                          Who planted thee;

    And mayst thou like him immortal be!"