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Such are the Terms to gain Britannia's Grace! vibrat
And fuch the Terrors of the Brunswick Race!

Was it for this the Sun's whole Luftre fail'd,
And fudden Midnight o'er the Noon prevail'd!
For this did Heav'n difplay to Mortal Eyes
Aërial Knights and Combates in the Skies!

Was it for this Northumbrian Streams look'd Red!
And Thames driv'n backward show'd his Secret Bed!
Falfe Auguries! th' infulting Victor's Scorn!
Ev'n our own Prodigies againft us turn!
O Portents conftru'd on our Side in vain!
Let never Tory truft Eclipfe again!

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Run clear, ye Fountains! be at Peace ye Skies!
And, Thames, henceforth to thy green Borders rife!

To Rome then must the Royal Wand'rer go,
And fall a Suppliant at the Papal Toe!.
His Life in Sloth inglorious muft he wear,
One half in Luxury, and one in Praytrið ofur
His Mind perhaps at length debauch'd with Eafe,
The proffer'd Purple and the Hat may please.
Shall He, whofe Ancient Patriarchal Race
To mighty Nimrad in One Line we trace,
In folemn Conclave fit, devoid of Thought,

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And poll for Points of Faith his Truffy:Vote!\ tlu 17'0 *až Be fummon'd to his Stall in Time of Need oli men-T And with his casting Suffrage fix a Creed!

Shall

Shall He in Robes on stated Days appear,
And English Hereticks curfe once a Year!
Garnet and Faux fhall He with Pray'rs invoke,
And beg that Smithfield Piles once more may smoke!
Forbid it Heav'n! my Soul, to Fury wrought,
Turns almost Hannoverian at the Thought.

From James and Rome I feel my Heart decline, And fear, O Brunswick, 'twill be wholly Thine, Yet ftill his Share thy Rival will conteft,

And ftill the Double Claim divides my Breast,
The Fate of James with pitying Eyes I view,
And wish my Homage were not Brunswick's Due:
To James my Paffions and my Weakness guide,
But Reason sways me to the Victor's Side.
Tho' griev'd I fpeak it, let the Truth appear;
(You know my Language, and my Heart, fincere.)
In vain did Falfhood his fair Fame disgrace;
What force had Falfhood, when he fhow'd his Face!
In vain to War our boastful Clans were led;
Heaps driv'n on Heaps, in the dire Shock they fled:
France fhuns his Wrath, nor raises to our Shame
A fecond Dunkirk in another Name:

In Britain's Funds their Wealth all Europe throws,
And

up the Thames the World's Abundance flows: Spite of feign'd Fears, and artificial Cries,

The Pious Town fees Fifty Churches fife:

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The Hero triumphs as his Worth is known,
And fits more firmly on his shaken Throne.

To my fad Thought no Beam of Hope appears
Through the long Prospect of succeeding Years.
The Son, afpiring to his Father's Fame,
Shows all his Sire: Another and the Same.
He, bleft in lovely Carolina's Arms,

To future Ages propagates Her Charms :
With Pain and Joy at ftrife, I often trace
The mingled Parents in each Daughter's Face,
Half fick'ning at the Sight, too well I spie
The Father's Spirit thro' the Mother's Eye:
In vain new Thoughts of Rage I entertain,
And strive to Hate their Innocence in vain.

O Princess! happy by thy Foes confest! Blest in thy Husband! in thy Children bleft!

As They from Thee, from Them New Beauties born,
While Europe lafts, fhall Europe's Thrones adorn.
Transplanted to each Court, in times to come,

Thy Smile Celestial and un-fading Bloom
Great Auftria's Sons with softer Lines shall grace,
And smooth the Frowns of Bourbon's haughty Race,
The fair Descendents of thy facred Bed

Wide-branching o'er the Western World shall spread,
Like the fam'd Banian Tree, whofe pliant Shoot
To Earthward bending of it's felf takes Root,

Till, like their Mother Plant, ten thousand stand
In verdant Arches on the fertile Land;
Beneath her Shade the tawny Indians rove,
Or hunt at large thro' the wide ecchoing Grove.

O Thou, to whom thefe mournful Lines I fend,
My promis'd Husband, and my dearest Friend;
Since Heav'n appoints this favour'd Race to reign,
And Blood has drench'd the Scottish Fields in vain;
Muft I be wretched, and thy Flight partake?
Or wilt not Thou, for thy loy'd Chloe's fake,
Tir'd out at length, submit to Fate's Decree.
If not to Brunfwick, O return to Me?
Proftrate before the Victor's Mercy bend:

What fpares whole Thousands, may to Thee extend.
Should blinded Friends thy doubtful Conduct blame,.
Great Brunfwick's Virtues will fecure thy Fame:
Say, these invite thee to approach his Throne,
And own the Monarch, Heav'n youchfafes to own,
The World, convinc'd, thy Reasons will approve,
Say this to Them; but fwear to Me 'twas Love.

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In Imitation of MILTON.

Humbly Infcrib'd to the late Tranflator of Virgil.

Tantum de medio fumptis accedit honoris. Hor.

F Man's important Bus'nefs, and his Work Of Nature, late and early, ev'ry Day, Sing, my Pierian Mufe; in Numbers sweet As is my Subject, voiding all thy Wit Uncoftive, flowing forth in happiest Strains. The Swain furcharg'd with plentiful Repast, Or rural Banquet, or domeftick Meal,

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