Oh be thou blest with all that heav'n can send,

Long health, long youth, long pleasure, and a friend! 

Not with those toys the female world admire;

Riches that vex, and Vanities that tire.

Let joy, or ease, let affluence, or content,

And the gay conscience of a life well-spent,

Calm ev'ry thought, inspirit ev'ry grace,

Glow in thy heart, and smile upon thy face!

Let day improve on day, and year on year,

Without a Pain, a Trouble, or a Fear.

And ah! since Death must that lov'd frame destroy,

Die by a sudden Exstacy of joy:

Or let thy soul in some soft dream remove,

And be thy latest gasp a sigh of love!