 | The first epistle of the second book of Horace, imitated |  |
To Thee, the World its present homage pays,
The Harvest early, but mature the Praise:
Great Friend of Liberty! in Kings a Name
Above all Greek, above all Roman Fame:
Whose Word is Truth, as sacred and rever'd,
As Heav'n's own Oracles from Altars heard.
Wonder of Kings! like whom, to mortal eyes
None e'er has risen, and none e'er shall rise.
The Harvest early, but mature the Praise:
Great Friend of Liberty! in Kings a Name
Above all Greek, above all Roman Fame:
Whose Word is Truth, as sacred and rever'd,
As Heav'n's own Oracles from Altars heard.
3
None e'er has risen, and none e'er shall rise.
| The first epistle of the second book of Horace, imitated | |