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Hew, square, and rear, magnificent, the stone,
And give our oaks a glory not their own !
What life demands by this obeys her call, 195
And added elegance consummates all.
Thus stately cities, statelier navies rise,
And spread our grandeur under distant skies.
From Liberty each nobler fcience sprung,
A Bacon brightend, and a Spenser fung:
A Clarke and Locke new tracks of truth explore,
And Newton reaches heights unreach'd before.
What Trade secs Property that wealth maintain,
Which Industry no longer dreads to gain ;
What tender conscience kneels with fears iesign’d, 205
Enjoys her worship, and avows her mind ;
What genius now from want to fortune climbs,
And to fafe Science every thought sublimes ;
What Royal Power, from his superior state,
Sees public happiness his own create ;
But kens those patriot-fouls, to which he owes
Of old each source, whence now each blessing flows ?
And if such spirits from their heaven descend,
And blended fame, to point one glorious end ;
Flame from one breast, and thence to Britain shine, 215
What love, what praise, O Walpole, then is thine ?
TWICE twenty tedious moons have roll'd away,
Since hope, kind Aatterer! tun'd my pensive lay, Whispering, that you, who rais’d me from despair, Meant, by your smiles, to make life worth my care.; With pitying hand an orphan's tears to skreen 5 And o'er the motherless extend the
queen. 'I'will be the prophet guides the poet's strain! Grief never touch'd a heart like your’s in vain : Heaven gave you power, because you love to bless; And pity, when you feel it, is redress.
Two fathers join’d to rob my claim of one! My mother too thought fit to have no son ! The senate next, whose aid the helpless own, Forgot my infant wrongs, and mine alone! Yet parents pityless, nor peers unkind,
IS Nor titles loft, nor woes mysterious joind, Strip me of hope by heaven thus lowly laid, To find a Pharaoh's daughter in the shade.
You cannot hear unmov’d, when wrongs implore,
Your heart is woman, though your mind be more; 20
Kind, like the power who gave you to our prayers,
You would not lengthen life to sharpen cares ;
They, who a barren leave to live bestow,
Snatch but from death to sacrifice to woe.
Hated by her from whom my life I drew,
Whence should I hope, if not from heaven and you?
Nor dare I groan beneath affliction's rod,
My queen my mother, and my father-God.
The pitying Muses saw me wit pursue ;
A bastard-fon, alas ! on that side too,
Did not your eyes exalt the poet's fire,
And what the Mufe denies, the queen inspire ?
While rising thus your heavenly foul to view,
I learn, how angels think, by copying you.
Great princess ! 'tis decreed-once every year 35
I march uncall’d your Laureat Volunteer;
Thus shall your poet his low genius raise,
And charm the world with truths too vas for praise.
Nor need I dwell on glories all your own,
Since surer means to tempt your smiles are known ; 40
Your Poet Mall allot your lord his part,
And paint him in his noblest throne-your heart.
Is there a greatness that adorns Him beit,
A rising wish, that ripens in his breast ?
Has He foremeant some diftant age to bless,
Disarm oppreßion, or expel distress ?
Plans. He some scheme to reconcile mankind,
People the seas, and busy every wind!'.
Would he by pity the deceivid reclaim,
And smile contending factions into shame?
Would his example lend his laws a weight,
And breathe his own soft morals o'er his state ?
The Muse shall find it all, fhail make it seen,
And teach the world his praise, to charm his queen.
Such be the annual truths my verse imparts 55 Nor frown, fair favourite of a people's hearts ! Happy if, plac'd, perchance, beneath your eye, My Muse, unpension’d, might her pinions try ; Fearless to fail, whilst you indulge her flame, And bid me proudly boast your Laureat's name ; 60 Renobled thus by wreaths my queen bestows, I lose all memory of wrongs
· NO. II. GRE
REAT princess, 'tis decreed'! once every year,
I march uncall’d, your Laureat Volunteer." So fung the Muse; nor sung the Muse in vain : My queen accepts, the year renews the strain.
Ere first your influence Mone with heavenly aid, 5
Each thought was terror; for each view was fhade.
Fortune to life each flowery path deny'd ;
No science learn’d to bloom, no lay to glide.
Instead of hallow'd hill, or vocal vale,
Or Aream, fweet-echoing to the tuneful tale ;
Damp dens confin’d, or barren deserts spread,
With spectres haunted, and the Muses fled ;
Ruins in pensive emblem seem to rise,
And all was dark, or wild, to Fancy's eyes.
But hark ! a gladdening voice all nature chears ! 15
Disperse, ye glooms ! a day of joy appears ?
Hail, happy day!-'Twas on thy glorious morn,
The first, the fairest of her sex was born !
How swift the change! Cold, wintery forrows Aly;
Where-e'er the looks, delight surrounds the eye!
Mild Mines the sun, the woodlan is warble round,
The vales sweet echo, sweet the rocks resound !
In cordial air soft fragrance floats along ;
Each scene is verdure, and each voice is fong!
Shoot from yon orb divine, ye quickening rays! 25
Boundless, like her benevolence, ye blaze !
Soft emble:ns of her bounty, fall ye showers !
And sweet ascend, and fair unfold
flowers! Ye roses, lilies, you we earliest claim, In whiteness, and in fragrance, match her fame! 30 'Tis yours to fade, to fame like hers is due Undying sweets, and bloom for ever new. Ye blossoms, that one varied landscape-rise, And send your scentful tribute to the skies ;