Britannia Triumphans In Four Parts ... Sacred to XXVIII May; The Anniversary of the High and Mighty Prince's Birth, George Lewis, by the Grace of God, and Laws of Heaven and Earth, King of Great Britain, France and Ireland ... By Alexander Pennecuik |
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ANNEXA. |
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ANNEXA.
In him three glorious Dukedoms reunite,
Brunswick, Hanover, and by Nuptial Rite,
Zell calls him Master, and her dear Delight.
To make the good, the gallant George rise higher,
His Breman and his Osnaburg conspire.
Three mighty manly Nations him obey,
O're them the imperial Scepter he doth Sway;
His numerous Subjects scatter'd thro' the Land,
Are like the Sars of Heav'n or th' Oceans Sand:
Scotland, England, Ireland owns his Pow'r,
His Seed shall Reign whilst Sun and Moon endure.
My Muse doth this prophetick Vision sing,
From Fredrick's Loins a numerous Race shall spring,
Who shall in Europe and in Asia Reign.
Fredrick the Grace, and Glory of the Age,
His buding Youth doth Miracles presage.
Brunswick, Hanover, and by Nuptial Rite,
Zell calls him Master, and her dear Delight.
To make the good, the gallant George rise higher,
His Breman and his Osnaburg conspire.
Three mighty manly Nations him obey,
O're them the imperial Scepter he doth Sway;
His numerous Subjects scatter'd thro' the Land,
Are like the Sars of Heav'n or th' Oceans Sand:
Scotland, England, Ireland owns his Pow'r,
His Seed shall Reign whilst Sun and Moon endure.
My Muse doth this prophetick Vision sing,
From Fredrick's Loins a numerous Race shall spring,
Who shall in Europe and in Asia Reign.
Fredrick the Grace, and Glory of the Age,
His buding Youth doth Miracles presage.
Prince Fredrick, visit Scotia, on her Smile,
Thy Presence shall her Poverty beguile.
Let Fredrick's Feet th' Ult'ma Thule tread,
Her frozen Checks shall glow with Crimson red,
Nor envy England with her Indian Trade.
Rude England doth, thy Royal Parents keep,
Let Scotia have Thee for a Royal Type,
Shine on us blazing Star, or we're undone,
For half an Age we have not seen the Sun,
Warm'd with the distant Rayes, we're still alive,
A Royal Stem would surely make us Thrive.
Thy Presence shall her Poverty beguile.
Let Fredrick's Feet th' Ult'ma Thule tread,
Her frozen Checks shall glow with Crimson red,
Nor envy England with her Indian Trade.
Rude England doth, thy Royal Parents keep,
Let Scotia have Thee for a Royal Type,
Shine on us blazing Star, or we're undone,
For half an Age we have not seen the Sun,
Warm'd with the distant Rayes, we're still alive,
A Royal Stem would surely make us Thrive.
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