University of Virginia Library

Search this document 
A Collection Of Poems

By John Whaley

collapse section
 
collapse section
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
collapse section
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

Thus, as the Year its certain round repeats,
Henry, on Thee distinguish'd Honour waits.
For thee shall future Plinys Columns rear,
For thee, the Muse her annual Wreath prepare:
Thy goodly Deeds remotest Times relate,
And from thy glorious Æra take their Date.
What tho' thy Sire in Battle dauntless stood,
And snatch'd from France her Lillies steep'd in Blood?
Others in Tracks of Death may hunt Renown,
And on the Fate of thousands raise a Throne,
While on thy Head, more lasting Olives grow,
Give the just Laurel to thy Father's Brow;
Be he the Son of Mars, the pious Numa thou.