His Wit, his Art, and copious Eloquence,
Have fingly won the Question to his fide,
Made Oxfd blufh, and St. John drop his Pride;
Whilft every Ear was with his Accents charm'd,
As every Breaft was with his Ardour warm'd:
Faction was touch'd, and felt the fecret Force,
Dumb and convicted, but without Remorfe,
Envy with Rage contending in her Face,
To fee his Triumph and her juft Difgrace.

Nor lefs in Council did his Weight appear,
The ableft Statesman, as the brightest Peer.

Thou mighty Prince, who from perfidious Power
Didft fpeed to fave us in a timely Hour;
Whilft Beauty join'd with Valour form'd thy Train,
Το grace our Court, and raise our martial Vein;
Whofe rifing Beams made drooping Credit thrive,
Religion fpring, fair Liberty revive;

Say, if thy chofen Minifters, who fate

With thee to guide the great Machine of State,

A more confummate Character could boast,
Than that which Britain in her WHARTON loft.

Oh! had kind Heav'n (if Prayers were not too late) Another Luftrum added to his Date,

How would his Head, his Heart, his Hand confpire,
To punish Traytors as their Crimes require?
To crush Rebellion, bridle Factious Rage,
And quell the Monsters of an impious Age?

How

How would his Bosome beat with Joy to see,
Great GEORGE! the British Legend true in thee?
To see thee o'er the vanquish'd Dragon ride,
And free thy Kingdoms from his Rage and Pride?
Whilft Peace and Plenty spread their golden Wings
Around the best of MEN, the best of KINGS,
And ev'ry Tide shall waft into thy Ports

Wealth from all Lands, and Homage from all Courts.

But Sov'reign Heav'n, whofe Ways are ever wife,
Juft drew the glorious Dawn before his Eyes;
And for his happier Son referv'd the Sight
OF BRUNSWICK's Power in its Meridian Light.
GEORGE fhall in Him prove Honour, Courage, Tr
And find the Father in the pregnant Youth.

Thus the great Leader of the Hebrew Bands, Through op'ning Billows, and o'er burning Sands, From Egypt's Yoak, and haughty Pharaoh's Chains, To Canaan's fruitful Hills, and flow'ry Plains, From Pifgha's Height the promis'd Land defcry'd; More was forbid; he faw, Rejoyc'd, and dy’d.

SONG.

SONG.

By a Gentleman on a LADY's finging an Anfwer of her own Compofing, to a Copy of Verfes be had formerly made in her Praife.

I,

AH, Clie! Had thy diftant Lays

Attack'd my weaker fide,

And thou had'ft only writ to raise

An empty Poet's Pride;

With merry Glee then all Day long,

Thy Wit, thy Verfe had been my Song.
With a Fa, la, &c..

II.

But to the Lines which thou haft writ,

It was a cruel Choice

To add new Force, and Grace thy Wit
With Beauty and with Voice;

Wit only Points, but Lip and Eye
Feather the Darts and make them fly.

With, &c.

III. Thy

III.

Thy Dawning Muse thou should't have fent

Forerunner to thy Sun,

And not have fpread the Firmament

At once with Height of Noon; To banish Darkness it was kind, But Cruel thus to ftrike me Blind. With, &c.

When kindled Skies their Light'nings broach,

At diftance they appear,

To warn us of their first approach,

And for the Storm prepare;

But

But Flashes unexpected fright,

They melt the Soul, and pierce the Sight.
With, &c. -

VI.

But you, Fair Nymph, no Time allow,
At once our Fate proclaim,

And whilst your Beauty makes us Glow,
Your Voice infpires the Flame;

But when the Mufe affumes the part,
What Armour can infure the Heart?
With, &c.

VII.

The Delphick God by Female Tongues
The Oracles declar'd,

From horrid Looks thro' untun'd Lungs
The Fate of Crowns was heard;

But the whole God in thee does meet,
His Youth, his Beauty, and his Wit,
With, &c.

VIII.

Had Sappho thus to Phaon writ,

She had escap'd the Wave,

The