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 The living air of joy, that whoso breathes Shall seem, as by enchantment, warmed and filled With genial gladness. Here, by thee beguiled, The troubled brow shall lose its furrows, deep By cares inwrought; the heavy heart grow light And gather strength and courage for new toils. Music with sounding string and richest strain, And Poesy with all her visions rare, And kindred arts whose simplest gifts may please, Shall blend their charms to grace thy queenly state, Obedient to thy summons. Nor shall Mirth Withhold her ringing laugh when thou shalt call; But, with all innocent pleasures in her train, Shall come to visit thee and lend her aid To make thy court earth's fairest, happiest spot.

Yet not to listless ease, nor pleasure's round, The life inane that pampered luxury Elsewhere delights to lead, thy realm be given. This is thy pride, New England, that thy Homes With healthful industries did e'er abound.