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How many, yet deceiv'd, all power oppofe? Their fears encreafing, as decrease their woes; Jealous of bondage, while they freedom gain, And moft oblig'd, moft eager to complain.

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But well we count our blifs, if well we view,
When power oppreffion, not protection grew;
View prefent ills that punish diftant climes;
Or bleed in memory here from ancient times.
Mark first the robe abus'd Religion wore,
Story'd with griefs, and stain'd with human gore!
What various tortures, engines, fires, reveal,
Study'd, empower'd, and fanctify'd by zeal?
Stop here, my Mufe!-Peculiar woes defcry!
Bid them in fad fucceffion ftrike thy eye!
Lo, to her eye the fad fucceffion fprings !
She looks, the weeps, and, as the weeps, fhe fings.
See the doom'd Hebrew of his ftores bereft!
See holy murder justify the theft!

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His ravag'd gold fome ufelefs fhrine fhall raife, 75
His gems on fuperftitious idols blaze!
His wife, his babe, deny'd their little home,
Stripp'd, ftarv'd, unfriended, and unpity'd roam.
Lo, the Prieft's hand the Wafer-God fupplies!-
A King by confecrated poifon dies!

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85

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See Learning range yon broad æthereal plain,
From world to world, and god-like Science gain!
Ah! what avails the curious fearch fuftain'd,
The finish'd toil, the god-like Science gain'd?
Sentenc'd to flames th' expansive wifdom fell,
And truth from heaven was forcery from hell.
See Reafon bid each myftic wile retire,
Strike out new light! and mark!-the wife admire!
Zeal fhall fuch herefy, like Learning, hate;
The fame their glory, and the fame their fate.
Lo, from fought mercy, one his life receives!
Life, worfe than death, that cruel mercy gives:
The man, perchance, who wealth and honours bore,
Slaves in the mine, or ceafelefs ftrains the oar.
So doom'd are thefe,and fuch perhaps, our doom, 95
Own'd we a Prince, avert it, heaven! from Rome.
Nor private worth alone falfe Zeal affails;
Whole nations bleed when bigotry prevails.
What are fworn friendships? What are kindred ties?
What's faith with herefy? (the zealot cries.) 100
See, when war finks, the thundering cannon's roar;
When wounds, and death, and difcord are no more;
When mufic bids undreading joys advance,

Enormous power! Nor noble, nor ferene;
Now fierce and cruel; now but wild and mean. 120
See titles fold, to raise th' unjust supply!
Compell'd the purchase! or be fin'd, or buy!
No public fpirit, guarded well by laws,
Uncenfur'd cenfures in his country's caufe.
See from the merchant forc'd th' unwilling loan! 125
Who dares deny, or deem his wealth his own?
Denying, fee! where dungeon-damps arife,
Difeas'd he pines, and unaffisted dies.
Far more than maffacre that fate accurft!
As of all deaths the lingering is the worst.

130

New courts of cenfure griev'd with new offence,
Tax'd without power, and fin'd without pretence,
Explain'd, at will, each ftatute's wrested aim,
Till marks of merit were the marks of shame;
So monftrous!-Life was the feverest grief, 135
And the worst death feem'd welcome for relief.

In vain the fubject fought redress from law,
No fenate liv'd the partial judge to awe:
Senates were void, and fenators confin'd
For the great caufe of Nature and Mankind; 140,
Who kings fuperior to the people own;
Yet prove the law fuperior to the throne.

Who can review without a generous tear,
A Church, a State, fo impious, fo fevere;
A land uncultur'd through polemic jars, 145
Rich!--but with carnage from intestine wars;
The hand of Industry employ'd no more,
And Commerce flying to fome fafer shore;
All property reduc'd, to Power a prey,
And Senfe and Learning chac'd by Zeal away? 150
Who honours not each dear departed ghost,
That Arove for Liberty fo won, fo loft:
So well regain'd when god-like William rofe,
And first entail'd the bleffing George bestows?
May Walpole ftill the growing triumph raife, 155
And bid these emulate Eliza's days;
Still ferve a Prince, who, o'er his people great,
As far tranfcends in virtue, as in state!

160

The Mufe pursues thee to thy rural feat;
Ev'n there fhall Liberty inspire retreat.
When folemn cares in flowing wit are drown'd,
And sportive chat and social laughs go round:
Ev'n then, when pausing mirth begins to fail,
The converfe varies to the serious tale.
Thetale pathetic fpeaks fome wretch that owes 165
Swell the foft hour, and turn the fwimming dance:To fome deficient law relieflefs woes.
When, to crown these, the social sparkling bowl 105
Lifts the cheer'd fenfe, and pours out all the foul;
Sudden he fends red maffacre abroad;
Faithlefs to man, to prove his faith to God.
What pure perfuafive eloquence denies, [1IC
All-drunk with blood, the arguing fword fupplies;
The fword, which to th' affaffin's hand is given!
Th'affaffin's hand-pronounc'dthe hand of heaven!
Sex bleeds with fex, and infancy with age;
No rank, no place, no virtue, ftops his rage;
Shall fword, and flame, and devastation ceafe, 115
To please with zeal, wild zeal! the God of Peace?
Nor lefs abuse has scourg'd the civil state,
When a King's will became a nation's fate,

What inftant pity warms thy generous breast!
How all the legiflator flands confeis'd!
Now fprings the hint! 'tis now improv'd to thought!
Now ripe! and now to public welfare brought! 170
New bills, which regulating means bestow,
Juftice preferve, yet foftening mercy know:
Juftice shall low vexatious wiles decline,
And still thrive moft, when lawyers moft repine,
Juftice from jargon fhall refin'd appear,
To knowledge through our native language clear
Hence we may learn, no more deceiv'd by law,
Whence wealth and life their beft affurance draw.
The freed Infolvent, with industrious hand,
Strives yet to fatisfy the juft demand:

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Thus ruthless men, who would his powers reftrain,
Oft what severity would lofe obtain.
These, and a thousand gifts, thy thought acquires,
Winch Liberty benevolent inspires.
From Liberty the fruits of law increase,
Plenty, and joy, and all the arts of peace.
Abroad the merchant, while the tempefts rave,
Adventurous fails, nor fears the winds and wave;
At home untir'd we find th' aufpicious hand [190
With flocks, and herds, and harvests, blefs the land:
While there, the peasant glads the grateful foil,
Here mark the fhipwright, there the mafon toil,
Hew, fquare, and rear, magnificent, the stone,
And give our oaks a glory not their own!
What life demands by this obeys her call,
And added elegance confummates all.
Thus ftately cities, ftatelier navies rife,
And spread our grandeur under diftant skies.
From Liberty each nobler science sprung,
A Bacon brighten'd, and a Spenfer fung:
A Clarke and Locke new tracks of truth explore,
And Newton reaches hights unreach'd before.
What Trace fees Property that wealth maintain,
Which Industry no longer dreads to gain; [205
What tender confcience kneels with fears refign'd,
Enjoys her worship, and avows her mind;
What genius now from want to fortune climbs,
And to fafe Science every thought fublimes;
What Royal Power, from his fuperior state,
Sees public happiness his own create;
But kens thofe patriot-fouls, to which he owes
Of old each fource, whence now each bleffing flows?
And if fuch fpirits from their heaven defcend,
And blended flame, to point one glorious end;
Flame from one breaft, and thence to Britain
fhine,
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Strip me of hope-by heav'n thus lowly laid,
To find a Pharaoh's daughter in the fhade.

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You cannot hear unmov'd, when wrongs implore,
Your heart is woman, tho' 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 beftow,
Snatch but from death, to facrifice to woe.
Hated by her from whom my life I drew,
Whence fhould 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 Mufes faw me wit pursue;
A baftard-fon, alas! on that fide too,
Did not your eyes exalt the poet's fire,
And what the Mufe denies, the queen inspire?
While rifing thus your heavenly foul to view,
I learn, how angels think, by copying you.
Great princefs! 'tis decreed-once every year 35
200I march uncall'd your Laureat Volunteer;
Thus fhall your poet his low genius raise,
And charm the world with truths too vaft for praise.
Nor need I dwell on glories all your own, [40
Since furer means to tempt your smiles are known;
Your Poet fhall allot your lord his part,
And paint him in his nobleft throne-your heart.
Is there a greatnefs that adorns Him beft,
A rifing with, that ripens in his breast?
Has He foremeant some diftant age to blefs, 45
Difarm oppreffion, or expel distress?
Plans He fome fcheme to reconcile mankind,
People the feas, and bufy every wind?
Would he by pity the deceiv'd reclaim,
And fmile contending factions into shame?
Would his example lend his laws a weight,
And breathe his own foft morals o'er his ftate?
The Muse shall find it all, fhall make it seen,
And teach the world his praife, to charm his queen.

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What love, what praise, O Walpole, then is thine?

THE VOLUNTEER LAUREAT,

A POEM,

ON HER MAJESTY'S BIRTH-DAY, 1731-2.

NO. I.

WICE twenty tedious moons have roll'd away,
Since hope, kind flatterer!tun'd my penfive lay,
Whispering, that you, who rais'd me from defpair,
Meant, by your fmiles, to make life worth my care;
With pitying hand an orphan's tears to skreen 5
And o'er the motherless extend the queen.
'Twill be the prophet guides the poet's strain!
Grief never touch'd a heart like yours in vain :
Heaven gave you power, because you love to blefs;
And pity, when you feel it, is redrefs.

Two fathers join'd to rob my claim of one!
My mother too thought fit to have no fon!
The fenate next, whofe ai the helpless own,
Forgot my infant wrongs, and mine alone!
Yet parents pity!efs, nor peers unkind,
Nor titles loft, nor woes myfterious join'd,

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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 Mufe, unpenfion'd, might her pinions try;
Fearlefs to fail, whilft you indulge her flame,
And bid me proudly boast your Laureat's name; 60
Renobled thus by wreaths my queen bestows,
I lofe all memory of wrongs and woes.

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Fortune to life each flowery path deny'd;
No fcience learn'd to bloom, no lay to glide.
Inftead of hallow'd hill, or vocal vale,

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Or ftream, fweet-echoing to the tuneful tale;
Damp dens confin'd, or barren defarts spread,
With spectres haunted, and the Mufes fled;
Ruins in penfive emblem feem to rife,
And all was dark, or wild, to Fancy's eyes.
But hark! a gladdening voice all nature chears!
Difperfe, ye glooms! a day of joy appears!
Hail, happy day!-'Twas on thy glorious morn,
The first, the fairest of her fex was born!
How fwift the change! Cold, wintery forrows fly;
Where-e'er the looks, delight furrounds the eye! 20
Mild fhines the fun, the woodlands warble round,
The vales fweet echo, fweet the rocks refound!
In cordial air, foft fragrance floats along;

Each scene is verdure, and each voice is fong! [25
Shoot from yon orb divine, ye quickening rays!
Boundless, like her benevolence, ye blaze !
Soft emblems of her bounty, fall
fhowers!
And fweet afcend, and fair unfold ye flowers!
Ye roles, lilies, you we earliest claim,

ye

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In whitenefs, and in fragrance, match her fame! 30
'Tis
yours to fade, to fame like hers is due
Undying fweets, and bloom for ever new.
Ye bloffoms, that one varied landscape rife,
And fend your fcentful tribute to the skies;
Diffufive like yon royal branches fmile,
Grace the young year, and glad the grateful ifle!
Attend, ye Mufes! mark the feather'd quires!
Thofe the fpring wakes, as you the queen infpires.
0, let her praife for ever fwell your fong!
Sweet let your facred ftreams the notes prolong, 40
Clear, and more clear, through all my lays refine;
And there let heaven and her reflected shine!
As, when chill blights from vernal funs retire,
Chearful the vegetative world afpire,

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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 fhone;
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? [55
Art learns to foar by your fweet influence taught;
In life well cherish'd; nor in death forgot:
In death, as life, the learn'd your goodness tell!
Witnefs the facred bufts of Richmond's cell!
Sages, who in unfading light will shine;
Who grafp'd at fcience, like your own, divine! 60
The Mufe, who hails with fong this glorious

morn,

Now looks through days, through months, through

years unborn;

All white they rife, and in their course exprest
A king by kings rever'd, by subjects blest !
A queen, where-e'er true greatnefs fpreads in fame;
Where learning towers beyond her fex's aim; 66

Where pure religion no extreme can touch,
Of faith too little, or of zeal too much;
Where these behold, as on this bless'd of morns,
What love protects them, and what worth adorns;
Where-e'er diffufive goodness smiles, a queen 78
Still prais'd with rapture, as with wonder feen 1
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 ftop unequal lays,
And to the juft hiftorian yield your praise.

THE VOLUNTEER LAUREAT.

A POEM,

75

ON HER MAJESTY's BIRTH-DAY, 1734-5

NO. III.

I was mine to be infpir'd alone by wrongs; Wrongs, that with life their fierce attack began, Drank infant tears, and still pursue the man. Life fcarce is life-Dejection all is mine;

'N youth no parent nurs'd my infant fongs,

5

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' opprefs'd, to fortune only kind; 1O
Whofe pity 's infult, and whofe cold refpect
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, Is
How fhall the fire awake within my breaft?
How fhall the Mufe her flagging pinions raife?
How tune her voice to Carolina's praife?
From jarring thought no tuneful raptures flow;
Thefe with fair days and gentle feafons glow; 20
Such give alone fweet Philomel to fing,
And Philomel's the poet of the fpring.

But foft, my foul! fee yon celeftial 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 fhe! 'tis fhe!
A ftranger long to mifery and me.

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"Hear Nature whispering in the breeze her fong! "Hear her sweet warbling through the feather'd " throng!

Bids the heart yield to Virtue's silent call ;
And thews Ambition's fons mere children all;
Who hunt for toys which please with tinfel shine;
For which they fquabble, and for which they pine."
Oh! hear her voice, more mellow than the gale,
That breath'd thro' fhepherd's pipe enchants the
vale!

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Come! with the warbling world thy notes unite, "And with the vegetative fmile delight! "Sure fuch a scene and fong will foon reftore "Loft quiet, and give blifs unknown before; "Receive it grateful, and adore, when given, 105 "The goodness of thy parent, queen, and heaven! "With me each private virtue lifts the voice; "While public spirit bids a land rejoice: "O'er all thy queen's benevolence defcends, "And wide o'er all her vital light extends. "As winter foftens into spring, to you "Blooms fortune's feason, through her smile, anew. "Still for paft bounty, let new lays impart "The fweet effufions of a grateful heart! "Caft though the telescope of hope your eye! 115 " There goodness infinite, fupreme, descry! "From him that ray of virtue ftream'd on earth, "Which kindled Caroline's bright foul to birth. "Behold! he fpreads one univerfal fpring! [120 "Mortals, transform'd to angels, then shall fing; 60" Oppreffion then fhall fly with want and shame, "And bleffing and existence be the fame!”

Hark! the invites from city smoke and noise,
Vapours impure, and from impurer joys;
From various evils, that, with rage combin'd,
Untune the body, and pollute the mind:
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.
To this oppos'd, the Muse presents the scene;
Where fylvan pleasures ever smile ferene;
Pleasures that emulate the bleft above,
Health, innocence, and peace, the Mufe, and Love;
Pleasures that ravish, while alternate wrought
By friendly converse, and abftracted thought.
These footh my throbbing breast. No lofs I mourn;
Though both from riches and from grandeur

torn.

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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 the the being which she gave destroy? 65
My queen gives life, and bids me hope for joy.
Honours and wealth I chearfully refign;
If competence, if learned ease be mine!
If I by mental, heartful joys be fir'd,
And in the vale by all the Mufe inspir'd!

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THE VOLUNTEER LAUREAT,

A POEM,

ON HER MAJESTY's BIRTH-DAY, 1735-6,

NO. IV.

the mild fun falutes the opening spring,

Land gladdening nature calls the Mufe to fing;

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Gay chirp the birds, the bloomy sweets exhale,
And health, and fong, and fragrance fill the gale.
Yet, mildest funs, to me are pain fevere,
And mufic's felf is difcord to my ear!
I, jocund fpring, unfympathizing, fee,
801 And health, that comes to all, comes not to me.
Dear health once fled, what spirits can I find! [10
What folace meet, when fled my peace of mind?
From abfent books what ftudious hint devise?
From abfent friends, what aid to thought can rife?
A genius whisper'd in my ear-Go seek
Some men of ftatc!-The mufe your wrongs may
fpeak.

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Here cease my plaint-See yon enlivening fcenes!
Child of the fpring! Behold the best of queens!
Softnefs and beauty rose 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.
Domeftic difcord finks beneath her smile,
And arts, and trade, and plenty, glad the ifle.
Lo! industry surveys, with feafted eyes,
His due reward, a plenteous harvest rife!
Nor (taught by commerce) joys in that alone;
But fees the harvest of a world his own.
Hence thy just praise, thou mild, majestic Thames!
Rich river! richer than Pactolus' streams!
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 villas thine:
And while around ten thousand beauties glow,
Thefe ftill o'er thofe redoubling luftre throw. [95
"Come then (fo whifper'd the indulgent Mufe)
"Come then, in Richmond grove, thy forrows lofe!
"Come then, and hymn this day! The pleafing
scene

*Shews, in each view, the genius of thy queer.

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But will fuch liften to the plaintive strain ? 15
The happy feldom heed th' unhappy's pain.
To wealth, to honours, wherefore was I born?
Why left to poverty, repulfe, and scorn?
Why was I form'd of elegant defires?
Thought, which beyond a vulgar flight afpires! 20
Why, by the proud, and wicked, crush'd to earth?
Better the day of death, than day of birth!

Thus I exclaim'd: a little cherub fmil'd;
Hope, I am call'd (faid he), a heaven-born child!
Wrongs fure you have; complain you justly may :25
But let wild forrow whirl not thought away!

No-trust to honour! that you ne'er will stain
From peerage-blood, which fires your filial vein.
Truft more to Providence! from me ne'er fwerve!
Once to diftruft, is never to deserve.
Did not this day a Caroline difclofe?

I promis'd at her birth, and blessing rofe!
(Bleffing, o'er all the letter'd world to shine,
In knowledge clear, beneficence divine !)
'Tis hers, as mine, to chace away despair;
Woe undeferv'd is her peculiar care.

Her bright benevolence fends me to grief:
On want fheds bounty, and on wrong relief."

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But, O lamented change! the lay must flow
From grateful rapture now to grateful woe,
She, to this day who joyous luftre gave,
Defcends for ever to the filent grave.

She, born at once to charm us and to mend,
Of human race the pattern and the friend.

To be or fondly or severely kind,

To check the rash or prompt the better mind, 1Ỗ 35 Parents fhall learn from her, and thus fhall draw From filial love alone a filial awe.

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THE VOLUNTEER LAUREAT.

AN ODE,

45

Who seek in avarice wifdom's art to fave;
Who often fquander, yet who never gave;
From her thefe knew the righteous mean to find, IS
And the mild virtue ftole on half mankind,
The lavish now caught frugal wifdom's lore;
Yet ftill, the more they fav'd, bestow'd the more.
Now mifers learn'd at others woes to melt,
And faw and wonder'd at the change they felt. 20
The generous, when on her they turn'd their view,
The generous ev'n themselves more generous grew,
Learn'd the fhunn'd haunts of fhame-fac'd want

to trace;

To goodness, delicacy, adding grace.
The confcious cheek no rifing blush confefs'd, 25
Nor dwelt one thought to pain the modeft breaft;
Kind and more kind did thus her bounty shower,
And knew no limit but a bounded power.

ON HER MAJESTY's BIRTH-DBY, 1736-7. This truth the widow's fighs, alas! proclaim;

NO. V.

YE fpirits bright, that ather rove,

That breathe the vernal foul of love;
Bid health defcend in balmy dews,
And life in every gale diffuse;

That give the flowers to fhine, the birds to fing;
Oh, glad this natal day, the prime of spring!
The virgin fnow-drop first appears;

Her golden head the crocus rears.
The flowery tribe, profufe and gay,
Spread to the foft, inviting ray.

So arts fhall bloom by Carolina's fmile,

So fhall her fame waft fragrance o'er the isle.
The warblers various, fweet and clear,
From bloomy fprays falute the year.
O Mufe, awake! afcend and fing!
Hail the fair rival of the spring!

To woodland honours woodland hymns belong;
To her, the pride of arts! the Mufe's fong.
Kind, as of late her clement fway,
The feafon fheds a tepid ray.
The ftorms of Boreas rave no more;
The forms of faction ceafe to roar,
At vernal funs as wintery tempefts cease,
She, lovely power! fmiles faction into peace.

THE VOLUNTEER LAUREAT,

For this the orphan's tears embalın her fame. 30
The wife beheld her learning's fummit gain,
Yet never giddy grow, nor ever vain:
But on one science point a stedfast eye,
That fcience-how to live and how to die.

Say, Memory, while to thy grateful fight 35 5 Arife her virtues in unfading light,

ΤΟ

What joys were ours, what forrows now remain;
Ah! how fublime the blifs! how deep the pain l

40

And thou, bright princefs, feated now on high,
Next one, the fairest daughter of the sky,
Whofe warm-felt love is to all beings known,
Thy fifter Charity! next her thy throne;
See at thy tomb the Virtues weeping lie!
There in dumb forrow feem the Arts to dic.
So were the fun o'er other orbs to blaze,

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15 And from our world, like thee, withdraw his
rays,

No more to vifit where he warm'd before,
All life muft cease, and nature be no more.
Yet thall the Mufe a heavenly height effay

20 Beyond the weakness mix'd with mortal clay; 59
Beyond the lofs, which, though she bleeds to fee,
Though ne'er to be redeem'd, the lofs of thee!
Beyond ev'n this, the hails with joyous lay,
Thy better birth, thy firit true natal day;

A day, that fees thee borne, beyond the tomb, 55
To endless health, to youth's eternal bloom;
Borne to the mighty dead, the fouls fublime
Of every famous age, and every clime;
To goodnels fix'd by truth's unvarying laws,
To blits that knows no period, knows no pause-60
HER LATE MAJESTY, Save when thine -ye, irom yonder pure ferene,

FOR THE IST OF MARCH, 1737-8.

A POEM SACRED TO THE MEMORY OF

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Sheds a foft eye on this our gloomy scene.
With me now liberty and learning mourn,
From all relier, like thy lov'd confort, torn;
For where can prince or people hope relief,
When each contend to be fupreme grief?

י

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