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The royal bird poffesses all the boughs,
But shade and shelter to the flock allows.
Joy of our age, and safety of the next!
For which so oft thy fertile womb is vext :
Nobly contented, for the public good,
To waste thy spirits, and diffuse thy blood :
What vast hopes may these islands entertain,
Where Monarchs, thus descended, are to reign)
Led by commanders of so fair a line,
Our seas no longer shall our power confine.
A brave romance who would exactly frame
First brings his knight from some immortal dame :
And then a weapon, and a flaming shield,
Bright as his mother's eyes, he makes him wield;
None might the mother of Achilles be,
But the * fair pearl, and glory of the sea :
The man + to whom great Maro gives such fame,
From the high bed of heavenly Venus came :
And our next Charles, whom all the stars design
Like wonders to accomplish, spring from thine.
THE APOLOGY OF SLEEP,
For not approaching the Lady, who can do any thing
but sleep when she pleaseth.
Y charge it is those breaches to repair,
Which nature takes from sorrow, toil, and care :
Rest to the limbs, and quiet, I confer
On troubled minds: but nought can add to her,
Whom Heaven, and her transcendent thoughts, have
Above those ills which wretched mortals taste. (plac'd
Bright as the deathless Gods, and happy, the
From all that may infringe delight is free:
Love at her royal feet his quiver lays,
And not his mother with more hafte obeys.
Such real pleasures, such true joys suspense,
What dream can I present to recompense ?
Should I with lightning fill her awful hand,
And make the clouds seem all at her command:
Or place her in Olympus' top, a guest
Among th’ Immortals, who with Nectar feaft:
That power would seem, that entertainment, short
Of the true splendor of her present court :
Where all the joys, and all the glories, are
Of three great kingdoms, sever'd from the care.
I, that of fumes and humid vapors made,
Ascending do the seat of sense invade,
No cloud in so serene a manfion find,
To over-cast her ever-lhining mind:
Which holds resemblance with those spotless skies,
Where flowing Nilus want of rain supplies ;
That crystal heaven, where Phæbus never shrouds
His golden beams, nor wraps his face in clouds.
But what so hard which Numbers cannot force ?
So stoops the moon, and rivers change their course.
The bold * Mæonian made me dare to steep
Jove's dreadful temples in the dew of Necp.
And, fince the Muses do invoke my power,
I shall no more decline that facred bower,
Where Gloriana their great mistress lies :
But, gently taming those victorious eyes,
Charm all her senses; till the joyful sun
Without a rival half his courfe has run:
my hand that fairer light confines, May boast himself the brightest thing that shines.
E Gods, that have the power
To trouble and compose
All that's beneath your bower,
Calm filence on the seas, on earth, impose.
Fair Venus, in thy soft arms
The God of Rage confine;
For thy whispers are the charms
Which only can divert his fierce design.
What though he frown, and to tumult do incline?
Thou the flame
Kindled in his breast canft tame,
With that snow which unmelted lies on thine.
Great Goddess, 'give this thy sacred island reft,
Make heaven sinile,
That no storm disturb us, while
Thy chief care, our Halcyon, builds her nest.
Great Gloriana! fair Gloriana!
Bright as high heaven is, and fertile as earth ;
Whose beauty relieves us,
Whole royal bed gives us
Both glory and peace :
Our present joy, and all our hopes increase.
To the QUZEN-MOTHER of FRANCE, upon
REAT Queen of Europe! whence thy offspring
All the chief crowns; where Princes are thy heirs :
As welcome thou to sea-girt Britain's shore,
As erst Latona (who fair Cynthia bore)
To Delos was: here shines a Nymph as bright,
By thee disclos'd, with like increase of light.
Why was her joy in Belgia confin'd?
Or why did you so much regard the wind ?
Scarce could the ocean (though inrag’d) have tost
Thy sovereign bark, but where th' obfequious coast
Pays tribute to thy bed: Rome's conquering hand
More vanquish'd nations under her command
Never reduc'd : here Berecynthia so
Among her deathlefs progeny did go :
A wreath of towers adorn'd her reverend head,
Mother of all that on Ambrosia fed.
Thy god-like race must sway the age to come ;
As the Olympus peopled with her womb.
Would those commanders of mankind obey
Their honor'd parent; all pretences lay
Down at her royal feet; compose their jars,
And on the growing Turk discharge these wars :
The Christian knights that sacred tomb should wrest
From pagan hands, and triumph o'er the East :
Our England's Prince and Gallia's Dolphin might
Like young Rinaldo and Tancredi fight :
In single combat by their swords again
The proud Argantes, and fierce Soldan, sain :
Again might we their valiant deeds recite,
And with your * Tuscan Muse exalt the fight.
The COUNTRY to my Lady of CARLISLI.
all Orpheus alone could with the woods comply; Their rude inhabitants his song admir'd,
And nature's self, in those that could not lye :
Your beauty next our folitude invades,
And warms us, thining through the thicket shades.
Nor ought the tribute, which the wondering court
Pays your fair eyes, prevail with you to scorn The answer, and consent, to that report,
Which echo-like, the country does return : Mirrors are taught to flatter, but our springs Present th' impartial images of things.