But lo! what fudden radiance gilds the skies?
'Tis Gratitude defcending from above,
Known by the sweetness of her dove-like eyes,
Daughter of truth and univerfal love!
TO HENRY's facred dome she wafts along,
And on thy tomb fhe pours
Celestial fweets and amaranthine flowers:
The old, the young, the rich, the wretched crowd
Numerous around her, and with accents loud
Raise the mix'd voice, and pour the grateful fong:
"Hail Queen! adorn'd by nature and by art!
"Thine was each virtue of the head and heart;
"Thy people bleft thee, and thy children lov'd,
"And thy King honour'd, and thy God approv'd."
VIII.
But here my labours cease:
"Tis time the foaming courfer to release.
And thou, O royal fhade,
Forgive the Muse that these vain honours paid;
A Mufe as yet unheeded and unknown;
That dares to facrifice to truth alone,
Not prone to blame, not hasty to commend,
No foe unjust, no mercenary friend,
No fenfual bofom, no ungenerous mind,
And, tho' not virtuous, virtuously inclin'd.
LD battle-array, big with horror is fled,
And olive-rob'd peace again lifts up her head. Sing, ye Muses, TOBACCO, the bleffing of peace; Was ever a nation fo blessed as this?
When fummer funs grow red with heat,
TOBACCO tempers Phœbus' ire,
When wintry storms around us beat,
TOBACCO chears with gentle fire.
Yellow autumn, youthful spring,
In thy praises jointly fing.
Like NEPTUNE, CESAR guards VIRGINIAN fleets,
Fraught with TOBACCO's balmy fweets;
Old Ocean trembles at BRITANNIA's pow'r,
And BOREAS is afraid to roar.
While waftes of war deform the teeming coaft ;
BRITANNIA, diftant from each hoftile found,
Enjoys a PIPE, with ease and freedom crown'd;
E'en restless faction finds itself most free,
Or if a flave, a slave to liberty.
Smiling years that gayly run
Round the Zodiack with the fun,
Tell, if ever you have seen
Realms fo quiet and serene.
BRITISH fons no longer now
Hurl the bar, or twang the bow,
Nor of crimson combat think,
But fecurely fioke and drink.
CHORU S.
Smiling years, that gayly run
Round the zodiack with the fun,
Tell, if ever you have seen
Realms fo quiet and ferene.
IMITATION II. ITTLE tube of mighty pow'r,
Charmer of an idle hour,
Object of my warm defire,
Lip of wax, and eye of fire:
And thy fnowy taper waift,
With my finger gently brac'd;
And thy pretty fwelling creft,
With my little topper preft,
And the sweetest blifs of bliffes,
Breathing from thy balmy kiffes.
Happy thrice, and thrice agen,
Happieft he of happy men;
Who when agen the night returns,
IMITATION III.
Thou, matur'd by glad Hefperian funs,
TOBACCO, fountain pure of limpid truth,
That looks the very foul; whence pouring thought
Swarms all the mind; absorpt is yellow care,
And at each puff imagination burns:
Flash on thy bard, and with exalting fires
Touch the myfterious lip that chaunts thy praife,
In ftrains to mortal fons of earth unknown.
Behold an engine, wrought from tawny mines
Of ductile clay, with plastick virtue form'd,
And glaz'd magnifick o'er, I grafp, I fill.
From PETOTHEKE with pungent pow'rs perfum'd
Itself one tortoife all, where fhines imbib'd
Each parent ray; then rudely ram'd illume,
With the red touch of zeal-enkindling sheet,
Mark'd with Gibfonian lore; forth iffue clouds,
Thought-thrilling, thirft-inciting clouds around,
And many-mining fires: I all the while,
Lolling at cafe, inhale the breezy balm.
But chief, when Bacchus wont with thee to join,
In genial ftrife and orthodoxal ale,
Stream life and joy into the Mufe's bowl.
Oh be thou ftill my great infpirer, thou
My Mufe; oh fan me with thy zephyrs boon,
While I, in clouded tabernacle fhrin'd,
Burft forth all oracle and myftick fong.
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