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A Pindarick poem on the happy coronation Of His most Sacred Majesty James II

And his Illustrious Consort Queen Mary. By Mrs. Behn

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 I. 
 II. 
 III. 
 IV. 
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 VI. 
 VII. 
 VIII. 
 IX. 
 X. 
X.
 XI. 
 XII. 
 XIII. 
 XIV. 
 XV. 
 XVI. 
 XVII. 
 XVIII. 
 XIX. 
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 XXI. 
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 XXIII. 
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 XXVIII. 
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 XXX. 

X.

And now the Nymphs ply all their Female arts
To dress Her for Her victory of hearts;
A Thousand little LOVES descend!
Young waiting Cupids with officious care
In smiling order all attend:
This, decks Her Snowy Neck, and that Her Ebon Hair.
The Trophies which the Conqueress must adorn,
Are by the busie wantons born;
Who at Her Feet the shining burdens lay,
The Goddess pleas'd to see their Toyls,
Scatters Ten Thousand Graces from Her Smiles;
While the wing'd Boys catch ev'ry flying Ray.
This bears the valu'd Treasure of the East,
And lugs the Golden casket on His Breast;
Anothers little hand sustains
The weight of Oriental Chains;
And in the flowing jetty curles
They weave and braid the luced Pearls;
Round Her bright Face their nimble fingers play,
And ev'ry touch gives the young Gods a joy!
They gaze and hov'r round Her wond'rous Eyes,
Where a vast Heav'n of Wit and Beauty lies;
They point their Darts, and make their Arrows fine,
From the eternal Rays with which they shine;
From Her fair rising Breasts soft sighs they take,
To keep young tortur'd Lovers still awake.
From ev'ry Charm and Grace they bear,
Uneasie wishes, and despair;
From Her alone the Bankrupt Loves supply,
Their rifl'd Quivers with Artillery.
Fatal to All but Her Lov'd-Monarchs heart,
Who of the same Divine Materials wrought;
Cou'd equally exchange the dart,
Receive the wound with Life, with Life the wound impart;
And mixt the Soul as gently as the thought;

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So the Great Thund'rer Semele d'stroy'd,
Whil'st only Juno cou'd embrace the God!