March them again in fair array,
And bid them form the happy day,
The happy day design'd to wait
On William's fame, and Europe's fate.
Let the happy day be crown'd
With great event, and fair fuccefs;
No brighter in the year be found,
But that which brings the victor home in peace.
Again thy godhead we implore,
Great in wifdom as in power;
Again, for good Maria's fake, and ours,
Choose out other fmiling hours;
Such as with joyous wings have fled,
When happy counsels were advising;
Such as have lucky omens shed
O'er forming laws, and empires rifing;
Such as many courses ran,
Hand in hand a goodly train,
To bless the great Eliza's reign;
And in the typic glory show,
What fuller blifs Maria shall bestow.
As the folemn hours advance, Mingled fend into the dance Many fraught with all the treasures, Which thy eastern travel views; Many wing'd with all the pleasures, Man can afk, or Heaven diffufe:
That great Maria all those joys may know,
Which, from her cares, upon her fubjects flow..
For thy own glory fing our fovereign's praise,
God of verses and of days:
Let all thy tuneful fons adorn
Their lafting work with William's name;
Let chofen Muses yet unborn
Take great Maria for their future theme :
Eternal structures let them raise,
On William's and Maria's praise :
Nor want new fubject for the fong,
Nor fear they can exhaust the store,
Till nature's musick lies unstrung;
Till thou, great god, shalt lose thy double power,
And touch thy lyre, and shoot thy beams no more.
The LADY'S LOOKING GLASS.
In Imitation of a Greek Idyllium.
CELIA and I the other day.
Walk'd o'er the sand-hills to the fea:
The fetting fun adorn'd the coaft,
His beams intire, his fierceness loft:
And, on the furface of the deep,
The winds lay only not asleep :
The nymph did like the scene appear,,
Serenely pleafant, calmly fair:
Soft fell her words, as flew the air.
With fecret joy I heard her fay,
That the would never miss one day
A walk fo fine, a fight so gay.
But, oh the change! the winds grow high;
Impending tempests charge the sky;
The lightning flies, the thunder roars;:
And big waves lash the frighten'd shores.
Struck with the horror of the fight,
She turns her head, and wings her flight:
And trembling vows, she'll ne'er again
Approach the shore, or view the main.
Once more at least look back, faid I,
Thyself in that large glass descry :
When thou art in good-humour drest;
When gentle reason rules thy breast;
The fun upon the calmest sea
Appears not half so bright as thee :
'Tis then that with delight I rove
Upon the boundless depth of love:
I bless my chain; I hand my oar;
Nor think on all I left on shore.
But when vain doubt and groundless fear
Do that dear foolish bofom tear;
When the big lip and watery eye
Tell me, the rising storm is nigh;
'Tis then, thou art yon' angry main,
Deform'd by winds, and dafh'd by rain;
And the poor failor, that must try
Its fury, labours less than I...
Shipwreck'd, in vain to land I make,
While Love and Fate still drive me back :
Forc'd to doat on thee thy own way,
I chide thee first, and then obey.
Wretched when from thee, vex'd when nigh,
I with thee, or without thee, die.
By Mrs. ELIZABETH SINGER, afterwards Rowe.
WHILE from the skies the ruddy fun defcends,
And rifing night the evening shade extends;
While pearly dews o'erspread the fruitful field,
And clofing flowers reviving odours yield:
Let us, beneath these spreading trees, recite
What from our hearts our Muses may indite.
Nor need we, in this close retirement, fear,
Lest any swain our amorous secrets hear.
To every shepherd I would mine proclaim; Since fair Aminta is my softeft theme: A stranger to the loose delights of love, My thoughts the nobler warmth of friendship prove: And, while its pure and facred fire I fing,
Chafte goddess of the groves, thy fuccour bring.
Propitious god of love, my breast inspire
With all thy charms, with all thy pleasing fire;
Propitious god of love, thy fuccour bring,
Whilft I thy darling, thy Alexis fing;
Alexis, as the opening blossoms fair,
Lovely as light, and foft as yielding air.
For him each virgin sighs; and on the plains
The happy youth above each rival reigns.
Nor to the echoing groves, and whispering spring,
In sweeter strains does artful Conon fing;
When loud applauses fill the crouded groves,
And Phœbus the fuperior fong approves.
Beauteous Aminta is as early light,
Breaking the melancholy shades of night.
When she is near, all anxious trouble flies,
And our reviving hearts confefs her eyes.
Young love, and blooming joy, and gay defires,
In every breast the beauteous nymph inspires;
And on the plain when she no more appears,
The plain a dark and gloomy profpect wears.
In vain the streams roll on the eastern breeze
Dances in vain among the trembling trees :
In vain the birds begin their evening fong,
And to the filent night their notes prolong:.
Nor groves, nor crystal streams, nor verdant field,
Does wonted pleasure in her abfence yield.
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