Full Lyrics
Come Clara as the Lilly fair,
Blushing like the dewkist rose,
Yon murm'ring rill shall soothe your ear
And Strephon sigh thee to repose.
What tho' by persecuting fate
The charms of luxury's denied,
The empty farce of servile state
And all the purple train of pride.
Yet if with me you seek the plain,
With me enjoy the rural cot,
A happy, tho' a humble swain
Ye proud and great, I scorn your lot.
