University of Virginia Library

I.

No Bard, from horrid fields of war,
Now waits the haughty Conqueror's car;
Nor in a lofty-sounding strain
Paints Victory's exulting train;
That train! where pomp and state preside,
With every honour, every grace:
Yet still, to check the Victor's pride,
Grief and compassion steal a place.
Spite of the Banners waving round,
Spite of the Clarion's animating sound,
The wretched Parent's starting tear,
The Orphan's cry,
The Widow's sigh,
Molest his sight, and grate his ear.
But Oh! to Thee with humblest thanks we bend,
Britain's Genius, Britain's Friend!
'Twas not enough to place her name
First on the glittering rolls of Fame:
But looking with a gracious eye
Onward to posterity,
Thou, Thou hast rais'd another GEORGE, to be
The future prop of Britain's Liberty.

II.

Hail, Royal Infant! At thy Birth
Though not a Star his course forsook,
Nor Sun grew pale, nor frighted Earth
To her remotest confines shook;
(Such wonders as of old
High deeds to come, and dread exploits foretold)
Yet happier Omen! Every English heart
Claims in Thy Parents joy an equal part;
Behold the Love thy Father's merit won
Extended to his Infant Son.
O! mayst Thou like that Father prove!
With equal Virtues, equal Love
Thy People's Love secure;
Which, like the Sun upon the opening flower,
Or the mild fall of heavenly dews
Will o'er thy rising Reign new life diffuse.
For time will come, when Britain's state
Shall on Thy patriot care depend:
When Thou, entrusted with her fate,
With Arts shalt bless her, and with Arms defend.

III.

And lo! to magic Fancy's eye
Celestial forms appear,
Paying to thine Infancy
Honour mixt with Love and Fear.
First splendid Commerce, richly drest
In a spreading, broider'd vest,
Spangled with variety:
Next, washing from her crimson hands
The blood of slaughter'd millions, Victory stands.
Then, gay as spring, and light as air,
With garment loose and flowing hair,
Our native Nymph sweet Liberty.
And last, in purple robes that graceful flow,
Void of presumption, void of fear,
Nor vainly light, nor rigidly severe,
With eyes benign, that all around dispense
Sweet smiling Hope and mild Benevolence,
Religion moves majestically slow.
Their rising hopes in Thee they all confess,
And prophesy thy future Happiness;
Singing, as they round Thee throng,
This their universal Song:
“Rise, thou Prince! To whom we bend,
“Rise our Guardian, and our Friend:
“To Judgment rise, and riper years,
“Free from danger, free from cares.
“Heaven shall soon thy mind inspire
“With all the virtues of thy Sire.
“Thou shalt fill his awful place
“With equal dignity, and grace;
“Tyrants ambitious views oppose,
“And triumph o'er thy Country's foes.
“Plenty shall around Thee smile,
“And Peace make this her fav'rite Isle.
“Rise, and while on earth, receive
“Every blessing earth can give:
“Rise, on whom we all depend,
“Rise our Guardian, and our Friend.