The poetical and dramatic works of Sir Charles Sedley Collected and Edited from the Old Editions: With a preface on the text, explanatory and textual notes, an appendix containing works of doubtful authenticity, and a bibliography: By V. de Sola Pinto |
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| XXIX. | XXIX ON THE BIRTH-DAY OF THE LATE QUEEN |
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 | The poetical and dramatic works of Sir Charles Sedley |  |
26
XXIX
ON THE BIRTH-DAY OF THE LATE QUEEN
A SONG
Love's Goddess sure was blind this Day,
Thus to adorn her greatest Foe,
And Love's Artillery betray,
To one that wou'd her Realm o'rethrow.
Thus to adorn her greatest Foe,
And Love's Artillery betray,
To one that wou'd her Realm o'rethrow.
Those Eyes, that form that lofty Meen,
Who could for Vertue's Camp design?
Defensive Arms shou'd there be seen;
No sharp, no pointed Weapons shine.
Who could for Vertue's Camp design?
Defensive Arms shou'd there be seen;
No sharp, no pointed Weapons shine.
Sweetness of Nature, and true Wit,
High Power, with equal Goodness joyn'd
In this fair Paradise are met,
The Joy and Wonder of Mankind.
High Power, with equal Goodness joyn'd
In this fair Paradise are met,
The Joy and Wonder of Mankind.
May her blest Example chase
Vice in Troops out of the Land,
Flying from her awful Face,
Like pale Ghosts when Day's at Hand.
Vice in Troops out of the Land,
Flying from her awful Face,
Like pale Ghosts when Day's at Hand.
Long may she Reign over this Isle
Lov'd and ador'd in foreign Parts;
But gentle Pallas shield the while
From her bright Charms our single Hearts.
Lov'd and ador'd in foreign Parts;
But gentle Pallas shield the while
From her bright Charms our single Hearts.
May her Heroe bring home Peace,
Won with Honour in the Field,
And all home-bred Factions cease;
He our Sword, and She our Shield.
Won with Honour in the Field,
And all home-bred Factions cease;
He our Sword, and She our Shield.
27
Many such Days may she behold,
Like the glad Sun without decay;
May Time, that tears where he lays hold,
Only salute her in his way.
Like the glad Sun without decay;
May Time, that tears where he lays hold,
Only salute her in his way.
Late, late, may she to Heaven return,
And Quires of Angels there rejoyce,
As much as we below shall mourn
Our short, but their eternal Choice.
And Quires of Angels there rejoyce,
As much as we below shall mourn
Our short, but their eternal Choice.
| The poetical and dramatic works of Sir Charles Sedley | |