Our State Cannot Be Severed, We Are

Retiring From The Popular Noise, I Seek This Unfrequented Place To Find Some Ease.

Now The Bright Morning-star, Day's Harbinger, Comes Dancing From The East, And Leads With Her The Flowery May, Who From Her Green Lap Throws The Yellow Cowslip And The Pale Primrose. Hail, Bounteous May, That Dost Inspire Mirth, And Youth, And Warm Desire! Woods And Groves Are Of Thy Dressing; Hill And Dale Doth Boast Thy Blessing. Thus We Salute Thee With Our Early Song, And Welcome Thee, And Wish Thee Long.

The Mountain Nymph, Sweet Liberty.

Hard Are The Ways Of Truth, And Rough To Walk.

Indu'd With Sanctity Of Reason.