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II. Song.
To the Queene Mother.
Our blessings that discend so fast,
From the faire Partner of our Monarchs Throne,
We grieve, they are too great to last.
By whom our hopes are longer liv'd,
Then gladly we our vows, and prayses pay
To her, from whom they are deriv'd.
We heere beginne our offerings,
For those who sacrific'd to Rivers, knew,
Their first rights due, unto their Springs.
You in whose bosome, e'ven the chifo, and best
Of Moderne Victors lay'd his weary head,
When he rewarded Victorys with rest.
Your Beauty kept his vallor's flame alive;
Your Tuscane wisedome taught it how to thrive.
Inviting the Kings appearance in the
Throne of Honor.
To the Queene Mother.
1
VVhen with instructed eies, we looke uponOur blessings that discend so fast,
From the faire Partner of our Monarchs Throne,
We grieve, they are too great to last.
2
But when those groweing comforts we survay,By whom our hopes are longer liv'd,
To her, from whom they are deriv'd.
3
And since (great Queene) shee is deriv'd from you;We heere beginne our offerings,
For those who sacrific'd to Rivers, knew,
Their first rights due, unto their Springs.
4
The Streame, form whence our blessings flow, you bred;You in whose bosome, e'ven the chifo, and best
Of Moderne Victors lay'd his weary head,
When he rewarded Victorys with rest.
Your Beauty kept his vallor's flame alive;
Your Tuscane wisedome taught it how to thrive.
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