PROLOGUE TO THE Fifth of November, 1716. ELL are you met to fee what Thanks we pay, To Him, who fav'd us on this glorious Day. The yefter Sun the happy Hero bore, And the next gave him to Britannia's Shore; Yet Yet take once more his Labours in good Part, And in our grateful Thoughts for ever live; Our Royal GEORGE, at whofe rever'd Commands, No No more with fruitless Rage the Land moleft, THE THE Proteftant Toafts. ILL the Glaffes all round, To the Healths which we Britons re quire: First, To GEORGE, our Great KING, Whilft we merrily fing, For He always will Gladness infpire. In Peace or in War, He makes it his Care, His Subjects juft Rights to defend, And neglects his own Eafe, While he ftrives to increase Both the Riches and Strength of the Land. His generous Mind To our Welfare inclin'd Those Illuftrious Qualities grace, Which did heretofore move Al Popular Love, And adorn'd the PLANTAGENET Race. Next, as we begun, To the HERO, his SON, With the fame Noble Views, The fame Ends he pursues, Then let us Carouse, To the PRINCESS, his SPOUSE, For Religion an Empire deny'd. To their Off-Spring so Gay, From the Dawn of whofe Day, We may promise our felves future Blifs; Unmolested by Fears, Shall rejoyce, as we now do in This. |