When over Beth'lem's plains th' angelic throng,
To wond'ring shepherds caroll'd forth their song,
Soft with seraphic peace, the lay divine
Proclaim'd the promis'd King of Judah's line.

Surely such sounds, such sweet persuasive pow'r,
Heaven-favour'd L INLEY ! blest thy natal hour;
When thou, in strains symphonious, dost declare
The risen Champion of the direful war,
That our Redeemer liveth! and will stand
When frighted Nature bursts her plastic band:
Rais'd by th' extatic notes, our bosoms glow,
And taste of heavenly harmony below.