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A Collection Of Poems

By John Whaley

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The circling Months in happy Order past
Lead on the Solemn Day and Annual Feast;
While conscious Joys each grateful Breast inspire,
Provoke our Thanks, and all the Muses Fire:
Her Voice the meanest of the Nine wou'd raise,
Bring in the little Tribute of her Lays,
Chime with the Choir, and join in Henry's Praise

192

Oh! Thou from whence our ev'ry Blessing Springs,
Thou more than Parent, and Thou best of Kings,
Thee shall Devotion ever Hymning own
Her strict Assertor, and her fav'rite Son.