Sing, Lusitania! lovely land!
Now with thy brave deliverer glowing
In joy that makes all hearts expand,
His praise from every lip o’erflowing
That hero is a Flower of May:
Now hail the month in rapture’s measure,
That opens with his natal day,
Who shines as Honor’s living treasure!
O! let thy vines, a fount of health!
Potent to banish care and sadness!
Pour to his name their liquid wealth
In cups of glory, and of gladness!
And fail not now thy voice to raise
O Lavant! large domes excelling!
For Wellington must love the praise
Of truth and friendship’s favorite dwelling.
H—