 | A letter to Mr. Addison |  |
1
A LETTER TO Mr. Addison, on the KING's Accession to the Throne .
SIR,
While to new Honours you, unenvy'd, soar,
And too much. Merit is a Crime no more;
While Regents chuse you with a gen'ral Voice,
And glad Britannia loud applauds the Choice;
Pleas'd with my fond ambitious Zeal, excuse
The tuneful Labours of a Loyal Muse.
O! may you kindly listen to the Lyre,
You, whom I love, as much as I admire.
Then I with Freedom dare my Joys proclaim,
Careless of Censure, and secure of Fame;
Boldly a tributary Verse I bring,
Your Lawrels shade me, when to you I sing.
And too much. Merit is a Crime no more;
While Regents chuse you with a gen'ral Voice,
And glad Britannia loud applauds the Choice;
Pleas'd with my fond ambitious Zeal, excuse
The tuneful Labours of a Loyal Muse.
O! may you kindly listen to the Lyre,
You, whom I love, as much as I admire.
Then I with Freedom dare my Joys proclaim,
Careless of Censure, and secure of Fame;
Boldly a tributary Verse I bring,
Your Lawrels shade me, when to you I sing.
2
Long have we struggled in a glorious Cause,
To guard Religion, and secure our Laws.
In vain we taught th'ambitious Gaul to yield,
And reap'd the Harvest of each bloody Field:
Abroad Triumphant, still new Dangers rose
From home-bred Faction, and intestine Foes:
Whom ev'n against their Wills the Hero saves,
With Freedom wretched, happy if but Slaves.
This WILLIAM prov'd, when to our Aid he flew,
And his proud Rival trembled, and withdrew.
Infernal Arts were fruitlessly employ'd;
The Kingdoms, which he rescu'd, he enjoy'd.
Alcmena's Son, thus, spite of Juno, gain'd
Those Stars, and Heav'ns, which he had once sustain'd.
Such were the Blessings past, and yet we owe
Our present Transports to the dead Nassau;
He bravely vow'd the Wonder to compleat,
And make our Joys as permanent, as great.
With prudent Caution, and Paternal Fears,
He weigh'd the distant Fates of future Years;
Then said, when ANNA shall her Breath resign,
Succeed thou Glorious Hannoverian Line!
There I dare trust my Sons, the Father cry'd,
And having fix'd Britannia's Bliss, he dy'd.
May ever-springing Flow'rs his Tomb adorn,
And Nations praise him, who are yet unborn!
To guard Religion, and secure our Laws.
In vain we taught th'ambitious Gaul to yield,
And reap'd the Harvest of each bloody Field:
Abroad Triumphant, still new Dangers rose
From home-bred Faction, and intestine Foes:
Whom ev'n against their Wills the Hero saves,
With Freedom wretched, happy if but Slaves.
This WILLIAM prov'd, when to our Aid he flew,
And his proud Rival trembled, and withdrew.
Infernal Arts were fruitlessly employ'd;
The Kingdoms, which he rescu'd, he enjoy'd.
Alcmena's Son, thus, spite of Juno, gain'd
Those Stars, and Heav'ns, which he had once sustain'd.
Such were the Blessings past, and yet we owe
Our present Transports to the dead Nassau;
He bravely vow'd the Wonder to compleat,
And make our Joys as permanent, as great.
With prudent Caution, and Paternal Fears,
He weigh'd the distant Fates of future Years;
Then said, when ANNA shall her Breath resign,
Succeed thou Glorious Hannoverian Line!
There I dare trust my Sons, the Father cry'd,
And having fix'd Britannia's Bliss, he dy'd.
May ever-springing Flow'rs his Tomb adorn,
And Nations praise him, who are yet unborn!
3
Now let the flatter'd Youth his Title boast,
And fondly Triumph in a foreign Coast:
Enjoy the Pleasure of his fancy'd Schemes,
And, sportive, bend Patrician Necks in Dreams.
Deluded Youth! learn from thy boasted Sire,
Not to Invade, but silent to Retire.
What! tho' thy Friends their promis'd Arms shou'd joyn?
Hast thou forgot the Battel of the Boyn?
Vain was the first Attempt, a second dread;
Think on our Laws, and thy devoted Head.
In Climes remote thou may'st securely stay,
There with imaginary Sceptres play;
And while new Glories grace the British Throne,
Think the bright sparkling Diadem thy own.
Thus in calm Ev'nings on the Silver Thames
We smile, deluded with the painted Streams,
While from the Banks, fair, sloping Gardens rise,
Here the Green shadow'd Myrtle cheats our Eyes.
There glossey Plumbs a speedy Reach demand;
The fruitful Liquid almost tempts the Hand,
Where ripen'd Grapes in bending Branches vie,
And the Stream blushes with a Purple Dye.
Blue Hyacinths false Fragrancies bestow,
And absent Roses in the Waters blow.
And fondly Triumph in a foreign Coast:
Enjoy the Pleasure of his fancy'd Schemes,
And, sportive, bend Patrician Necks in Dreams.
Deluded Youth! learn from thy boasted Sire,
Not to Invade, but silent to Retire.
What! tho' thy Friends their promis'd Arms shou'd joyn?
Hast thou forgot the Battel of the Boyn?
Vain was the first Attempt, a second dread;
Think on our Laws, and thy devoted Head.
In Climes remote thou may'st securely stay,
There with imaginary Sceptres play;
And while new Glories grace the British Throne,
Think the bright sparkling Diadem thy own.
Thus in calm Ev'nings on the Silver Thames
We smile, deluded with the painted Streams,
While from the Banks, fair, sloping Gardens rise,
Here the Green shadow'd Myrtle cheats our Eyes.
There glossey Plumbs a speedy Reach demand;
The fruitful Liquid almost tempts the Hand,
Where ripen'd Grapes in bending Branches vie,
And the Stream blushes with a Purple Dye.
Blue Hyacinths false Fragrancies bestow,
And absent Roses in the Waters blow.
4
Methinks, I hear you chide my long Delay,
And wonder, whither would my Fancy stray;
Bid me with forward Zeal salute the King,
Awake to Raptures, and in Triumph sing.
And wonder, whither would my Fancy stray;
Bid me with forward Zeal salute the King,
Awake to Raptures, and in Triumph sing.
Oh Addison! 'tis not Neglect, but Fear,
That checks my ardent Longings to appear.
Such Majesty at its full Length to draw,
Might the best Masters of the Pencil awe.
If happy Sketches some Resemblance show,
The Lights must brighten, and the Colours glow.
Were the big Thoughts but worthily exprest,
Which heave, and roul impatient in my Breast,
Not Hallifax cou'd the bold Song disdain,
Not Hallifax produce a nobler Strain.
That checks my ardent Longings to appear.
Such Majesty at its full Length to draw,
Might the best Masters of the Pencil awe.
If happy Sketches some Resemblance show,
The Lights must brighten, and the Colours glow.
Were the big Thoughts but worthily exprest,
Which heave, and roul impatient in my Breast,
Not Hallifax cou'd the bold Song disdain,
Not Hallifax produce a nobler Strain.
Thro' Time's Abyss how shall I backward trace
The first great Founder of this glorious Race?
Whether in Nævius it began to bloom,
When the proud Tarquin reign'd the Scourge of Rome;
Or from the valiant Sigebert it sprung,
A Warrior still by Lombard Poets sung;
Or from brave Guelphus it derives its Date,
Whose Offspring govern'd the Bavarian State;
Old Annals to the last the most encline,
And honour Guelphus with the God-like Line.
In other Pedigrees a dawning Ray
Breaks out by Starts, and promises a Day:
One prudent Prince, distinguish'd by Renown,
Shall for a thoughtless Progeny attone.
But Nature here disdains a bounded Store,
Is ever giving, and yet never poor.
In one unbroken Series nobly springs
A Race of Heroes, and a Race of Kings.
Summon'd by Fate, when e'er the Parent dies,
Successive Virtues in his Son arise:
Thro' diff'rent Ages still they shone the same,
Where no Enlargement was allow'd to Fame.
Their ancient Glories rival'd they beheld
By few, and only by themselves excell'd.
Divided Branches still were seen to shoot,
With equal Vigour, from th'immortal Root.
So while the Danube various Streams compose,
From one rich Fountain the proud Ganges flows;
O'er Indian Plains majestically spread,
A hundred Rivers from his Stores are fed:
A hundred Rivers still might be supply'd,
And haughty Ganges still not sink his Tide.
The first great Founder of this glorious Race?
Whether in Nævius it began to bloom,
When the proud Tarquin reign'd the Scourge of Rome;
Or from the valiant Sigebert it sprung,
A Warrior still by Lombard Poets sung;
Or from brave Guelphus it derives its Date,
Whose Offspring govern'd the Bavarian State;
Old Annals to the last the most encline,
And honour Guelphus with the God-like Line.
5
Breaks out by Starts, and promises a Day:
One prudent Prince, distinguish'd by Renown,
Shall for a thoughtless Progeny attone.
But Nature here disdains a bounded Store,
Is ever giving, and yet never poor.
In one unbroken Series nobly springs
A Race of Heroes, and a Race of Kings.
Summon'd by Fate, when e'er the Parent dies,
Successive Virtues in his Son arise:
Thro' diff'rent Ages still they shone the same,
Where no Enlargement was allow'd to Fame.
Their ancient Glories rival'd they beheld
By few, and only by themselves excell'd.
Divided Branches still were seen to shoot,
With equal Vigour, from th'immortal Root.
So while the Danube various Streams compose,
From one rich Fountain the proud Ganges flows;
O'er Indian Plains majestically spread,
A hundred Rivers from his Stores are fed:
A hundred Rivers still might be supply'd,
And haughty Ganges still not sink his Tide.
Where shall the Muse begin her thankful Lays?
In Crouds of Patriots whom first dare to praise?
Thee, Bruno, thee Imperial Brunswick calls,
And owns the Founder of her lofty Walls;
Then sees in Albion fair Matilda's Charms,
And the fierce Lion Henry in her Arms:
Admires the Parents much, young Otho more,
For whom the German Eagles Thunder bore.
Never, O! never shall the Sacred Nine
To the first Robert's Fame a Verse decline,
Who bad them from Aönian Caves retreat,
And near the Neckar find a beauteous Seat.
Let slaughter'd Turks, or the rais'd Tow'rs of Zell
Just Frederick's unblemish'd Honours tell.
To Rupert next the willing Lyre is strung,
A Beardless Hero must not fight unsung.
See on Ulota's Plains without a Tear
The Chief, the Captive, and the Boy appear!
Let Ernest on the Rhine whole Kingdoms shield,
And Lawrels plant in each Dalmatian Field,
I pass the memorable Course he run,
And leave the Sire to hasten to the Son.
In Crouds of Patriots whom first dare to praise?
6
And owns the Founder of her lofty Walls;
Then sees in Albion fair Matilda's Charms,
And the fierce Lion Henry in her Arms:
Admires the Parents much, young Otho more,
For whom the German Eagles Thunder bore.
Never, O! never shall the Sacred Nine
To the first Robert's Fame a Verse decline,
Who bad them from Aönian Caves retreat,
And near the Neckar find a beauteous Seat.
Let slaughter'd Turks, or the rais'd Tow'rs of Zell
Just Frederick's unblemish'd Honours tell.
To Rupert next the willing Lyre is strung,
A Beardless Hero must not fight unsung.
See on Ulota's Plains without a Tear
The Chief, the Captive, and the Boy appear!
Let Ernest on the Rhine whole Kingdoms shield,
And Lawrels plant in each Dalmatian Field,
I pass the memorable Course he run,
And leave the Sire to hasten to the Son.
Hail mighty GEORGE! auspicious smiles thy Reign,
Thee long we wish'd for, Thee at last we gain.
Thy hoary Prudence in green Years began,
And the bold Infant stretch'd at once to Man.
How oft, Transported, the great Ernest smil'd
With the Presages of his greater Child!
Saw thee with burnish'd Helms unstartling play,
Nor from the Gleamings turn thy Eyes away:
Observ'd the first Emotions of thy Heart,
When thy imperfect Accents lisp'd a Dart.
Thy Youth was harden'd not by slow Degrees,
Not lull'd, and pamper'd in Luxurious Ease,
But with the rising Sun was taught to rise,
And bear the freezing, or the sultry Skies.
No Scenes of Horror could thy Soul affright,
And each new Labour gave a new Delight:
Pleas'd to discern th'approaching Foe from far,
And chuse the foremost Dangers of the War;
To range alone the Caverns of the Wood,
Or stem the Torrent of the headlong Flood.
Still Danow's crimson Waves thy Acts proclaim,
Still the Morëa trembles at thy Name.
Flandria in Echo's sports thy Praise around,
The Banks of Rhine return the grateful Sound.
Thy Arms have giv'n to humble Vales Renown,
And Names to Mountains, till thy Wars, unknown.
Streams, which in Silence flow'd obscure before,
Swell'd by thy Conquests proudly learn to roar.
Thee long we wish'd for, Thee at last we gain.
Thy hoary Prudence in green Years began,
And the bold Infant stretch'd at once to Man.
7
With the Presages of his greater Child!
Saw thee with burnish'd Helms unstartling play,
Nor from the Gleamings turn thy Eyes away:
Observ'd the first Emotions of thy Heart,
When thy imperfect Accents lisp'd a Dart.
Thy Youth was harden'd not by slow Degrees,
Not lull'd, and pamper'd in Luxurious Ease,
But with the rising Sun was taught to rise,
And bear the freezing, or the sultry Skies.
No Scenes of Horror could thy Soul affright,
And each new Labour gave a new Delight:
Pleas'd to discern th'approaching Foe from far,
And chuse the foremost Dangers of the War;
To range alone the Caverns of the Wood,
Or stem the Torrent of the headlong Flood.
Still Danow's crimson Waves thy Acts proclaim,
Still the Morëa trembles at thy Name.
Flandria in Echo's sports thy Praise around,
The Banks of Rhine return the grateful Sound.
Thy Arms have giv'n to humble Vales Renown,
And Names to Mountains, till thy Wars, unknown.
Streams, which in Silence flow'd obscure before,
Swell'd by thy Conquests proudly learn to roar.
8
O happy Britain! blest with her Desires,
Blest with a Monarch, whom the World admires!
O happy Monarch! who his Subjects sees
Inclin'd by Choice, and not Constraint, to please!
In vain the proud Triumphal Arches rise
On lofty Columns, 'till they mate the Skies:
Not him the proud Triumphal Arches move,
His noblest Triumph is his People's Love.
Blest with a Monarch, whom the World admires!
O happy Monarch! who his Subjects sees
Inclin'd by Choice, and not Constraint, to please!
In vain the proud Triumphal Arches rise
On lofty Columns, 'till they mate the Skies:
Not him the proud Triumphal Arches move,
His noblest Triumph is his People's Love.
We ev'ry Art industriously employ
To paint our Passion, and describe our Joy.
Each tuneful Son of Harmony prepares
His sweetest Musick, and his softest Airs.
Old Age, transported, feels a youthful Fire,
And, trembling, strikes the long-neglected Lyre.
Poetick Youths their Infant Pinions try,
And every callow Muse attempts to fly.
Ev'n those, by Nature not design'd to Sing,
Who never tasted the Castalian Spring,
Forgetful of their unperforming Parts,
In homely Doggrel vent their honest Hearts:
At the high Theme they impotently aim,
And sacrifice to Loyalty their Fame.
While dext'rous Virgins nobler Arts pursue,
And with old Glories interweave the New:
Watchful the Slumbers of the Night they break,
And teach the curious Needle how to speak.
Embroider'd Chiefs deal harmless Blows around,
And Groupes of gasping Heroes strow the Ground.
Here, British Ensigns are display'd on high,
And Gallia's silken Squadrons seem to fly:
There, Foreign Princes silently attend,
And to one Warrior all submissive bend;
The Warrior's Horse moves with a graceful Spring,
And bounds, as conscious, that he bears the King.
To paint our Passion, and describe our Joy.
Each tuneful Son of Harmony prepares
His sweetest Musick, and his softest Airs.
Old Age, transported, feels a youthful Fire,
And, trembling, strikes the long-neglected Lyre.
Poetick Youths their Infant Pinions try,
And every callow Muse attempts to fly.
Ev'n those, by Nature not design'd to Sing,
Who never tasted the Castalian Spring,
Forgetful of their unperforming Parts,
In homely Doggrel vent their honest Hearts:
At the high Theme they impotently aim,
And sacrifice to Loyalty their Fame.
While dext'rous Virgins nobler Arts pursue,
And with old Glories interweave the New:
9
And teach the curious Needle how to speak.
Embroider'd Chiefs deal harmless Blows around,
And Groupes of gasping Heroes strow the Ground.
Here, British Ensigns are display'd on high,
And Gallia's silken Squadrons seem to fly:
There, Foreign Princes silently attend,
And to one Warrior all submissive bend;
The Warrior's Horse moves with a graceful Spring,
And bounds, as conscious, that he bears the King.
Such is thy Image variously design'd:
But who can draw the Hero's godlike Mind?
Where Justice would the ready Vengeance throw,
Did tender Mercy not retard the Blow.
Where all those Graces in Conjunction shine,
Which thinly scatter'd make each Soul divine.
Others at distance glitt'ring may appear,
You view the Tinsel, if you view them near.
True Greatness from its native Source is bright,
And seeks no Covert, for it dreads no Light.
Thy ev'ry Act shall bear the Searcher's Eyes,
And still the more reveal'd, the more surprize.
But who can draw the Hero's godlike Mind?
Where Justice would the ready Vengeance throw,
Did tender Mercy not retard the Blow.
Where all those Graces in Conjunction shine,
Which thinly scatter'd make each Soul divine.
Others at distance glitt'ring may appear,
You view the Tinsel, if you view them near.
True Greatness from its native Source is bright,
And seeks no Covert, for it dreads no Light.
Thy ev'ry Act shall bear the Searcher's Eyes,
And still the more reveal'd, the more surprize.
Here, could my Strength another Toil sustain,
The brave Augustus should adorn my Strain.
His Glories would I faithfully rehearse,
And Audenarde should thunder in my Verse.
But such fresh Labours to fresh Bards belong,
And Cambridge never will refuse a Song,
Proud of the fav'rite Theme, her Prince's Fame,
Who condescended once to bear her Name.
She hopes a new Lycæum to behold,
Such as was figur'd, but not rais'd, of old.
Already on the rising Walls she smiles,
Nor envies Oxford all her stately Piles.
The brave Augustus should adorn my Strain.
10
And Audenarde should thunder in my Verse.
But such fresh Labours to fresh Bards belong,
And Cambridge never will refuse a Song,
Proud of the fav'rite Theme, her Prince's Fame,
Who condescended once to bear her Name.
She hopes a new Lycæum to behold,
Such as was figur'd, but not rais'd, of old.
Already on the rising Walls she smiles,
Nor envies Oxford all her stately Piles.
Scarce can my fainting Muse her self support,
To view the shining Circle of the Court;
Where Somerset illustriously repays
His Race's Brightness with a brighter Blaze:
Exerts the true Nobility of Blood,
And bravely dares to be both Great, and Good.
For ever, Hartford, shall Britannia bless
The Sword, which crown'd her Legions with Success:
For ever shall thy Counsels first be sought,
Who art that Patriot, others would be thought.
In thee the Hero and the Courtier meet,
Modestly bold, and elegantly sweet.
But a young Seymour yet behind appears,
And shoots his Virtues far beyond his Years.
The Worthies of old Rome let others trace,
Learn Thou to rival thy own glorious Race.
To Roman Fame compendiously aspire,
And imitate thy Brother, or thy Sire.
But with prophetick Pleasure I foresee,
What-e'er we hope'd for, still perform'd by thee.
Such happy Omens, in th'Idalian Grove,
Promis'd the Greatness of a future Jove.
Awful he look'd, tho' yet a beardless God;
The Mount began to tremble at his Nod:
With Smiles he saw the Lightnings take their Flight,
And learns to aim the Thunderbolt aright.
To view the shining Circle of the Court;
Where Somerset illustriously repays
His Race's Brightness with a brighter Blaze:
Exerts the true Nobility of Blood,
And bravely dares to be both Great, and Good.
For ever, Hartford, shall Britannia bless
The Sword, which crown'd her Legions with Success:
For ever shall thy Counsels first be sought,
Who art that Patriot, others would be thought.
In thee the Hero and the Courtier meet,
Modestly bold, and elegantly sweet.
But a young Seymour yet behind appears,
And shoots his Virtues far beyond his Years.
11
Learn Thou to rival thy own glorious Race.
To Roman Fame compendiously aspire,
And imitate thy Brother, or thy Sire.
But with prophetick Pleasure I foresee,
What-e'er we hope'd for, still perform'd by thee.
Such happy Omens, in th'Idalian Grove,
Promis'd the Greatness of a future Jove.
Awful he look'd, tho' yet a beardless God;
The Mount began to tremble at his Nod:
With Smiles he saw the Lightnings take their Flight,
And learns to aim the Thunderbolt aright.
O Marlb'rough! how can I thy Fame survey,
And to thy Praise not consecrate a Lay?
Thou great Camillus of our Isle, return,
Let Merit triumph, and pale Faction mourn.
Nor think this grateful Theme I newly chose,
Oft have I sung thee ev'n amidst thy Foes,
Amidst thy Country's Foes! for who could be
A Friend to Britain, and a Foe to thee?
And to thy Praise not consecrate a Lay?
Thou great Camillus of our Isle, return,
Let Merit triumph, and pale Faction mourn.
Nor think this grateful Theme I newly chose,
Oft have I sung thee ev'n amidst thy Foes,
Amidst thy Country's Foes! for who could be
A Friend to Britain, and a Foe to thee?
Fain would my Muse the pleasing Task prolong,
But starts, affrighted at th'unnumber'd Throng.
Her darling Halifax with Joy she spies,
And then to faithful Townshend turns her Eyes.
On Orford's Name obedient Tritons dwell,
And lowder yet provoke the sounding Shell.
Who shall the brave Argyle's Deserts proclaim,
In Years still blooming, but mature in Fame?
His quick Discernment can all Chances weigh,
Fierce without Fury, without Wildness gay.
Here, Cowper's Musick Crowds attentive draws,
There, Nottingham asserts Britannia's Laws.
While Parker judges, base Oppressors flie,
No more the Widows weep, or Orphans sigh.
To Calls of Honour Stanhope's Arms obey,
Conquest still follows, and adorns his Way.
Or if the Statesman rather would appear,
The willing Senate lends a list'ning Ear.
Had the fam'd Tully thus been form'd, of old,
Dreadful in Camps, as in Assemblies bold;
Not Eloquence ingloriously had bled,
The Warrior's Arm had sav'd the Patriot's Head.
But starts, affrighted at th'unnumber'd Throng.
Her darling Halifax with Joy she spies,
And then to faithful Townshend turns her Eyes.
12
And lowder yet provoke the sounding Shell.
Who shall the brave Argyle's Deserts proclaim,
In Years still blooming, but mature in Fame?
His quick Discernment can all Chances weigh,
Fierce without Fury, without Wildness gay.
Here, Cowper's Musick Crowds attentive draws,
There, Nottingham asserts Britannia's Laws.
While Parker judges, base Oppressors flie,
No more the Widows weep, or Orphans sigh.
To Calls of Honour Stanhope's Arms obey,
Conquest still follows, and adorns his Way.
Or if the Statesman rather would appear,
The willing Senate lends a list'ning Ear.
Had the fam'd Tully thus been form'd, of old,
Dreadful in Camps, as in Assemblies bold;
Not Eloquence ingloriously had bled,
The Warrior's Arm had sav'd the Patriot's Head.
Though the long Series still proceeds in State,
And my Strength sinks beneath the growing Weight,
To Sunderland a Verse I must decree,
Though hence he carries all the Arts with Thee.
O'er blest Hibernia shall his Reign diffuse
New Joys: a Theme for thy exalted Muse.
And my Strength sinks beneath the growing Weight,
To Sunderland a Verse I must decree,
Though hence he carries all the Arts with Thee.
O'er blest Hibernia shall his Reign diffuse
New Joys: a Theme for thy exalted Muse.
13
O! Thou, whose Breast with rich Ideas fraught
Knows no exhausted Energy of Thought,
Th'imperfect Essay gen'rously approve,
Forgive my Weakness, and indulge my Love,
Which thus attempted, in a lowly Strain,
To tell our wond'rous Joys for GEORGE's Reign.
A blissful Reign, with jealous Doubts unmixt;
Our floating Delos at the last is fixt.
Where Courage guards, and Justice guides the Throne,
The Rich forget to fear, the Poor to groan.
The King our Laws, the Laws our Rights insure,
What shall we wish for, to be more secure?
In such a Reign, free Brutus could not grieve,
And thy own Cato had vouchsaf'd to live.
Knows no exhausted Energy of Thought,
Th'imperfect Essay gen'rously approve,
Forgive my Weakness, and indulge my Love,
Which thus attempted, in a lowly Strain,
To tell our wond'rous Joys for GEORGE's Reign.
A blissful Reign, with jealous Doubts unmixt;
Our floating Delos at the last is fixt.
Where Courage guards, and Justice guides the Throne,
The Rich forget to fear, the Poor to groan.
The King our Laws, the Laws our Rights insure,
What shall we wish for, to be more secure?
In such a Reign, free Brutus could not grieve,
And thy own Cato had vouchsaf'd to live.
FINIS.
| A letter to Mr. Addison | |