The fate of James with pitying eyes I view,
And with my homage were not Brunswick's due :
To James my paffion and my weakness guide,
But reafon fways me to the victor's fide.
Tho' griev'd I fpeak it; let the truth appear;
You know my language and my heart fincere.
In vain did falfehood his fair frame disgrace;
What force had falfehood when he show'd his face?
In vain to war our boastful Clans were led;
Heaps driv'n on heaps in the dire fhock they fled.
France fhuns his wrath, nor raises to our fhame 155
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 rife.
The hero triumphs as his worth is known,
And fits more firmly on his fhaken throne.
To my fad thought no beam of hope appears Thro' the long profpect of fucceeding years. The fon aspiring to his father's fame
Shows all his fire, another and the fame:
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 fight, too well I fpy
The father's spirit thro' the mother's eye:
In vain new thoughts of rage I entertain,
And ftrive to hate their innocence in vain.
O Princefs! happy by thy foes confeft,
Bleft in thy husband, in thy children bleft,
As they from thee, from them new beauties born
While Europe lasts fhall Europe's thrones adorn;
Transplanted to each court, in times to come
Thy fmile celeftial and unfading bloom
Great Auftria's fons with fofter lines fhall grace,
And smooth the frowns of Bourbon's haughty race:
The fair defcendants of thy facred bed:
Wide branching o'er the western world fhall spread-
Like the fam'd Banian tree, whofe pliant fhoot 185
To earthward bending of itself takes root,
Till like their mother plant ten thousand stand
In verdant arches on the fertile land;
Beneath her fhade the tawny Indians rove,
Or hunt at large thro' the wide echoing grove. 190
O thou! to whom these mournful lines I fend,
My promis'd hufband 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 lov'd Chloe's fake,
Tir'd out at length, fubmit to Fate's decree?
If not to Brunswick, O return to me!
Profrate before the victor's mercy bend;
What spares whole thousands may to thee extend.
Should blinded friends thy doubtful conduct blame
Great Brunswick's virtues fhall fecure thy fame :
Say these invite thee to approach his throne,
And own the monarch Heav'n vouchfafes to own:
The world convinc'd thy reafons will approve ;
Say this to them, but swear to me it was love.
"I AM," cry'd Apollo, when Daphne he woo'd,
And panting for breath the coy virgin purfu'd,
When his wifdem in manner moft ample exprest
The long lift of the graces his godhip poffeft;
"I'm the god of fweet fong and infpirer of lays;" Nor for lays nor fweet fong the fair fugitive stays: "I'm the god of the harp--flop, my Fairest!”--in vain ; Nor the harp nor the harper could fetch her again. 8
"Ev'ry plant, ev'ry flow'r, and their virtucs, I know; "God of Light I'm above and of Phyfick below:" At the dreadful word Phyfickthe nymph fledmore faft; At the fatal word Phyfick fhe doubled her hafte. 12 IV.
Thou fond god of Wisdom! then alter thy phrafe, Bid her view the young bloom and thy ravishingrays;
Tell her lefs of thy knowledge and more of thy charms, And my life for it the damfel will fly to thy arms. 16
ON HER MARRIAGE,
FROM MENAGE.
THE greateft fwain that treads the Arcadian grove
Our fhepherds envy and our virgins love,
His charming nymph his fofter fair obtains,
The bright Diana of our flow'ry plains;
He 'midit the graceful of fuperiour grace,
And the the lovelieft of the loveliest race.
Thy fruitful influence guardian Juno shed,
And crown the pleasures of the genial bed;
Raise thence, their future joy, a smiling heir,
Brave as the father as the mother fair.
Well may'ft thou show'r thy choicest gifts on those
Who boldly rival thy most hated foes;
The vig'rous bridegroom with Alcides vies,
And the fair bride has Cytherea's eyes.
TO A LADY BEFORE MARRIAGE.
On! form'd by Nature and refin'd by art,
With charms to win and sense to fix the heart,
By thousands fought, Clotilda! canst thou free
Thy crowd of captives and defcend to me,
Content in fhades obfcure to waste thy life,
A hidden beauty and a country wife?
O! liften while thy fummers are my theme,
Ah! footh thy partner in his waking dream.
In fome small hamlet on the lonely plain
Where Thames thro' meadows rolls his mazy train,
Or where high Windfor, thick with greens array'd,
Waves his old oaks and spreads his ample shade,
Fancy has figur'd out our calm retreat;
Already round the vifionary feat
Our limes begin to fhoot, our flow'rs to spring, 15
The brooks to murmur and the birds to fing.
Where doft thou lie thou thinly-peopled green,
Thou nameless lawn and village yet unfeen,
Where fons contented with their native ground
Ne'er travell'd further than ten furlongs round, 20
And the tann'd peasant and his ruddy bride
Were born together and together dy'd,
Where early larks beft tell the morning light,
And only Philomel difturbs the night?
'Midft gardens here my humble pile shall rife,
With fweets furrounded of ten thousand dies;
All favage where th' embroider'd gardens end,
The haunt of Echoes fhall my woods afcend;
And oh! if Heav'n th' ambitious thought approve,
A rill fhall warble cross the gloomy grove;
A little rill, o'er pebbly beds convey'd,
Gush down the steep and glitter thro' the glade.
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