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· Like Persians to the rising sun,
Respectful homage pay;
Salute the glorious day!'
FOR THÉ BIRTHDAY OF THE KING OF PRUSSIA.
Arma virumque cano.
MORE glorious than the comet's blaze,
Ye deeds in distant ages done;
Of Hannibal, or Philip's son: Could Greece or conquering Carthage sing A hero great as Prussia's king! Where restless envy can't explore,
Or flatter'd hope presume to fly;
For laurels that can never die.
Through nations arm’d in dread array,
The bosom of the frighted sea. Could Greece, &c.
In vain, to shake the throne of Jove,
With impious rage the giants tried; 'Gainst Frederic's force the nations strove
In vain-their haughty legions died. Could Greece, &c. While prudence guides his chariot wheels,
Through virtue's sacred paths they roll; Immortal truth his bosom steels,
And guards him glorious to the goal.
In concert with her brave ally,
Where Gaul's detested lilies die. Wreaths of eternal friendship spring, "Twixt mighty George and Prussia's king. The jocund bowl let Britons raise,
And crown the jovial board with mirth ; Fill-to great Frederic's length of days,
And hail the hero's glorious birthCould Greece or conquering Carthage sing A chieftain famed like Prussia's king!
COMPOSED FOR THE BIRTHDAY OF THE LATE
GENERAL LORD BLAKENEY. The Muses' harps, by concord strung!
Loud let them strike the festal lay,
To hail her hero's natal day.
Behold his warlike banners wave !
Like Britain's oak the hero stands : The shield- the shelter of the brave!
The guardian o'er the British bands ! Arise, paternal, &c. He wrests the wreath from Richelieu's' brows,
Which fraud or faction planted there;
And Europe's chiefs his name revere. .
The sons of Gaul—a pageant crew!
'To Blakeney and his vanquish'd few. Arise, paternal, &c. Hibernia”, with maternal care,
His labour'd statue lifts on high:
That Blakeney's name may never die.
Commander of the expedition against Port Mahon. ? A statue was erected in Dublin to the memory of General Blakeney, who was a native of Ireland.
TO A YOUNG WIDOW.
LET bashful virgins, nicely coy,
Exalted rapture lose,
Through fearfulness refuse.
Though sure to conquer-fly?
'Tis peevish to deny.
Hold gracious with you still,
Obsequious to your will.
(Oppress'd with warm desire), Where, conquer'd by such mighty charms,
A monarch might expire. Thou'lt be a widow every night
(Thy wondrous power confess'd!) And, as I die in dear delight,
My tomb shall be thy breast.
SAY, my charmer! right or wrong,
ON A CHARGE OF INCONSTANCY. How can Chloe think it strange, Time should make a lover change ? Time brings all things to an end, Courage can't the blow defend. See, the proud aspiring oak Falls beneath the fatal stroke: If on Beauty's cheek he preys, Straight the rosy bloom decays: Joy puts out his lambent fires, And, at Time's approach--expires.
How can Chloe think it strange, Time should make a lover change?
IN AN ILL HUMOUR.
CONSIDER, sweet maid! and endeavour
To conquer that pride in thy breast; It is not a haughty behaviour Will set off thy charms to the best.