The muse shall breathe a native lay,
And sweetly consecrate the day;
While Anna by the power of truth
Leads on our emulative youth;
While each young virtue of the heart,
To her a rapture can impart.
The genuine thoughts her soul may prize,
Endear'd by fond affection's ties;
Warm from the bosom's ardent glow,
The wild effusions gaily flow.
"The muse shall breathe a native lay,
"And sweetly consecrate the day:"
While love and friendship's pure delight,
To bless our little band unite.