M HIGHNESS. ADAM, to all your cenfures I fubmit, have writ: You told me, filence would be thought a crime, And kindly ftrove to teaze me into rhyme, No more let trifling themes your Mufe employ, Nor lavish verse to paint a female toy : By your commands and inclination sway'd, I call'd th' unwilling Mufes to my aid; Refolv'd to write, the noble theme I chose, And to the Princess thus the Poem rofe. Aid me, bright Phoebus; aid, ye Sacred Nine ; Exalt my Genius, and my verfe refine. My ftrains with Carolina's name I grace, The lovely parent of our royal race. Breathe foft, ye winds, ye waves in filence fleep; Here I to Neptune form'd a pompous pray'r, To rein the winds, and guard the royal Fair; Bid the blue Tritons found their twisted fhells, And call the Nereids from their pearly cells. Thus |