ON THE MARRIAGE OF

GEORGE PRINCE OF DENMARK

AND THE

LADY

ANN E.

WAS Love conducted through the British main. On a more high defign the royal Dane, Than when of old with an invading hand His fierce forefathers came to fpoil the land : And love has gain'd him by a nobler way, A braver conquest and a richer prey.

For battles won, and countries fav'd renown'd, Shaded with laurels, and with honours crown'd, From fields with flaughter ftrew'd, the hero came, His arms neglected, to pursue his flame.

Like Mars returning from the noble chace

Of flying nations through the plains of Thrace,
When, deck'd with trophies and adorn'd with spoils,
He meets the goddess that rewards his toils!
But, oh what tranfports did his heart invade
When first he saw the lovely, royal maid !
Fame, that fo high did her perfections raise,
Seem'd now detraction, and no longer praise !
All that could nobleft minds to love engage,
Or into foftness melt the foldier's rage,

All that could fpread abroad refistless fire,
And eager wishes raife, and fierce defire,
All that was charming, all that was above
Ev'n poets fancies, though refin'd by love,
All native beauty dreft by every grace
Of sweetest youth fat fhining in her face!
Where, where is now the generous fury gone,
That through thick troops urg'd the wing'd warrior on?
Where now the fpirit that aw'd the lifted field;
Created to command, untaught to yield?
It yields, it yields, to Anna's gentle fway,
And thinks it above triumphs to obey.
See at thy feet, illuftrious princefs, thrown
All the rich spoils the mighty hero won!
His fame, his laurels, are thy beauties due,
And all his conquefts are outdone by you:
Ah! lovely nymph, accept the noble prize,
A tribute fit for thofe victorious eyes!
Ah! generous maid, pafs not relentless by,
Nor let war's chief by cruel beauty die!
Though unexperienc'd youth fond fcruples move,
And blushes rife but at the name of love;
Though over all thy thoughts and every fenfe
The guard is plac'd of virgin innocence;
Yet from thy father's generous blood we know
Refpect for valour in thy breaft does glow;
'Tis but agreeing to thy royal birth,
To fmile on virtue and heroic worth,
Love, in fuch noble feeds of honour fown,
The chafteft virgin need not blush to own.

Whom would thy royal father fooner find,
In thy lov'd arms to his high lineage join'd,
Than him, whom fuch exalted virtues crown,
That he might think them copy'd from his own?
Who to the field equal defires did bring,
Love to his brother, fervice to his king.
Who Denmark's crown, and the anointed head,
Rescued at once, and back in triumph led,
Forcing his paffage through the slaughter'd Swede.
Such virtue him to thy great fire commends,
The best of princes, subjects, brothers, friends!
The people's wonder, and the court's delight,
Lovely in peace, as dreadful in the fight !
What can fuch charms refift? The royal maid,
Loth to deny, is yet to grant afraid;

But love, ftill growing as her fears decay,
Confents at last, and gives her heart away.

Now with loud triumphs are the nuptials crown'd, And with glad fhouts the streets and palace found! Illuftrious pair! fee what a general joy

Does the whole land's united voice employ !
From you they omens take of happier years,
Recall loft hopes, and banish all their fears:
Let boding planets threaten from above,
And fullen Saturn join with angry Jove:
Your more aufpicious flames, that here unite,
Vanquish the malice of their mingled light!
Heaven of its bounties now fhall lavish grow,
And in full tides unenvy'd bleffings flow!

The

The shaken throne more furely fix'd shall stand,
And curs'd rebellion fly the happy land!
At your bleft union civil difcords cease,
Confufion turns to order, rage to peace!
So, when at first in Chaos and old Night

Hot things with cold, and moift with dry did fight,
Love did the warring feeds to union bring,
And over all things ftretch'd his peaceful wing,
The jarring elements no longer strove,

And a world started forth, the beauteous work of Love!

ON THE DEATH OF

KING CHARLES THE SECOND,

AND THE INAGURATION OF

KING JAMES THE SECOND.

F the indulgent Mufe (the only cure

IF

For all the ills afflicted minds endure,

That sweetens forrow, and makes sadness please,
And heals the heart by telling its disease),
Vouchsafe her aid, we alfo will prefume

With humble verfe t' approach the facred tomb;
There flowing streams of pious tears will shed,
Sweet incense burn, fresh flowers and odours spread,
Our laft fad offerings to the royal dead!

Dead is the king, who all our lives did blefs! Qur ftrength in war, and our delight in peace!

Was ever prince like him to mortals given !
So much the joy of earth, and care of heaven ?
Under the preffure of unequal fate,

Of fo erect a mind and foul fo great!
So full of meeknefs and fo void of pride,
When borne aloft by Fortune's highest tide!
His kindly beams on the ungrateful foil
Of this rebellious, stubborn, murmuring ifle
Hatch'd plenty; ease and riches did bestow,
And made the land with milk and honey flow!
Lefs bleft was Rome when mild Auguftus fway'd,
And the glad world for love, not fear, obey'd.
Mercy, like heaven's, his chief prerogative!
His joy to fave, and glory to forgive!

Who lives, but felt his influence, and did fhare
His boundless goodness and paternal care ?
And, whilft with all th' endearing arts he strove
On every fubject's heart to feal his love,

What breast so hard, what heart of human make,
But, foftening, did the kind impreffion take?
Belov'd and loving! with fuch virtues grac❜d,
As might on common heads a crown have plac'd!
How skill'd in all the mysteries of state!
How fitting to fuftain an empire's weight!
How quick to know! how ready to advise!
How timely to prevent! how more than fenates wife!
His words how charming, affable, and sweet!
How juft his cenfure! and how sharp his wit!
How did his charming converfation please
The bleft attenders on his hours of eafe;