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of the opening year, who weep'st to take Thy slender sceptre o'er a loyal clime, Fearing a lot of royalty must wake The wrinkle and the thorn before their time;

Be firm and hopeful! for the sparkling smile Shall kiss the transient tear-drop from thy cheek, And in thy foot-prints spring with gentlest wile, The blushing primrose, and the violet meek.

The snow-drop pure shall don its mantle green, And balmy skies awake their favoring ray, And heralds, bright with plumage, bless the queen, Who joins a tender heart to regal sway.

So go thou forth, with tears, thy precious seed Sowing in lowly trust, for Joy shall crown the deed.