Diffufive like yon royal branches smile,
Grace the young year, and glad the grateful ifle !
Attend, ye Mufes! mark the feather'd quires!
Those the spring wakes, as you the queen inspires.
O, let her praise for ever fwell your song!
Sweet let your facred ftreams the notes prolong,
Clear, and more clear, through all my lays refine;
And there let heaven and her reflected fhine!

As, when chill blights from vernal funs retire,
Chearful the vegetative world afpire,
Put forth unfolding blooms, and waving try
'Th' enlivening influence of a milder sky ;
So gives her birth (like yon approaching spring)
The land to flourish, and the Mufe to fing.
'Twas thus, Zenobia, on Palmyra's throne,
In learning, beauty, and in virtue shone;
Beneath her rofe, Longinus, in thy name,
The poet's, critick's, and the patriot's fame!
Is there (fo high be you, great princefs, prais'd!)
A woe unpitied, or a worth unrais'd ?

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40.

45

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Art learns to foar by your sweet influence taught; 55:
In life well cherish'd; nor in death forgot :

In death, as life, the learn'd your goodness tell!
Witness the facred bufts of Richmond's cell!

Sages, who in unfading light will shine;

Who grafp'd at science, like your own, divine!

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The Mufe, who hails with fong this glorious morn, Now looks through days, through months, through

years unborn;

All

All white they rife, and in their course exprest
A king by kings rever'd, by fubjects bleft!

A queen, where-e'er true greatness spreads in fame; 65
Where learning towers beyond her fex's aim;
Where pure religion no extreme can touch,

Of faith too little, or of zeal too much;

Where thefe behold, as on this blefs'd of morns, What love protects them, and what worth adorns ; 70 Where'e'er diffusive goodness smiles, a queen

Still prais'd with rapture, as with wonder seen!

See nations round, of every wish poffeft!

Life in each eye, and joy in every breast!

Shall I, on what I lightly touch'd, explain?

Shall I (vain thought !) attempt the finish'd strain ?
No!-let the Poet stop unequal lays,

And to the just hiftorian yield your praise.

75

THE

VOLUNTEER LAUREAT.

A PO E M

ON HER

MAJESTY'S BIRTH-D A Y, 1734-5.

NO. IV.

IN youth no parent nurs'd my infant fongs,

'Twas mine to be infpir'd alone by wrongs; Wrongs, that with life their fierce attack began, Drank infant tears, and ftill pursue the man.

Life fcarce is life-Dejection all is mine;

The power, that loves in lonely fhades to pine;
Of fading cheek, of unelated views;
Whose weaken'd eyes the rays of hope refuse.
'Tis mine the mean, inhuman pride to find;
Who fhuns th' oppress'd, to fortune only kind;
Whofe pity 's infult, and whofe cold respect
Is keen as fcorn, ungenerous as neglect.
Void of benevolent, obliging grace,
Ev'n dubious friendship half averts his face.
Thus funk in fickness, thus with woes oppreft,
How shall the fire awake within my breast?
How fhall the Mufe her flagging pinions raise?
How tune her voice to Carolina's praise ?
From jarring thought no tuneful raptures flow;
Thefe with fair days and gentle seasons glow:
Sueh give alone sweet Philomel to fing,
And Philomel's the poet of the spring.

But foft, my foul ! fee yon celestial light!
Before whofe lambent luftre breaks the night.
It glads me like the morning clad in dews,
And beams reviving from the vernal Muse:
Infpiring joyous peace, 'tis she! 'tis she !
A ftranger long to mifery and me.

Her verdant mantle gracefully declines,
And, flower-embroider'd, as it varies, fhines.
To form her garland, Zephyr, from his wing,
Throws the first flowers and foilage of the fpring.
Her looks how lovely! health and joy have lent
Bloom to her cheek, and to her brow content.

Behold

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Behold, fweet-beaming her ætherial eyes!
Soft as the Pleiades o'er the dewy skies.
She blunts the point of care, alleviates woes,
And pours the balm of comfort and repofe;
Bids the heart yield to Virtue's filent call,
And fhews Ambition's fons mere children all;

40

Who hunt for toys which please with tinfel fhine ;
For which they squabble, and for which they pine.

Oh hear her voice, more mellow than the gale,
That breath'd through thepherd's pipe enchants the vale!
Hark! he invites from city fmoke and noise,
Vapours impure, and from impurer joys;
From various evils, that, with rage combin'd,
Untune the body, and pollute the mind:

45

From crouds, to whom no focial faith belongs,
Who tread one circle of deceit and wrongs.;
With whom politeness is but civil guile,
And laws opprefs, exerted by the vile.

50

To this oppos'd, the Mufe prefents the scene;

Where fylvan pleasures ever smiles ferene ;

Pleasures that emulate the bleft above,

55

Health, innocence, and peace, the Mufe, and Love; Pleasures that ravish, while alternate wrought

By friendly converse, and abstracted thought.
These footh my throbbing breaft. No lofs I mourn;
Though both from riches and from grandeur torn. 60
Weep I a cruel mother? No-I've seen,

From heaven, a pitying, a maternal queen.
One gave me life; but would no comfort grant;
She more than life refum'd by giving want.

Would

Would he the being which fhe gave destroy?

My queen gives life, and bids me hope for joy.
Honours and Wealth I chearfully resign ;
If competence, if learned ease be mine!
If I by mental, heartfelt joys be fir'd,
And in the vale by all the Mufe inspir'd!

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Here ceafe my plaint-See yon enlivening fcenes!
Child of the fpring! Behold the best of queens!
Softness and beauty rofe this heavenly morn,
Dawn'd wisdom, and benevolence was born.
Joy, o'er a people, in her influence rose ;
Like that which spring o'er rural nature throws.
War to the peaceful pipe refigns his roar,
And breaks his billows on fome diftant fhore.
Domestic difcord finks beneath her fimile,
And arts, and trade, and plenty, glad the isle.
Lo! industry surveys, with feasted eyes,
His due reward, a plenteous harvest rise !
Nor (taught by Commerce) joys in that alone;
But fees the harvest of a world his own.

Hence thy just praife, thou mild, majestic Thames! 85
Rich river! richer than Pactolus' ftreams!
Than thofe renown'd of yore, by poets roll'd
O'er intermingled pearls, and fands of gold.
How glorious thou, when from old ocean's urn,
Loaded with India's wealth, thy waves return!
Alive thy banks! along each bordering line,
High cultur'd blooms, inviting villa's shine :
And while around ten thousand beauties glow,.
Thefe ftill o'er thofe redoubling luftre throw.

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"Come