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« Fairer to me, than ought in fabled song “ Or mystic record told of fhores Atlantic! “ Favour’d of heav'n, farewell ! imperial isle, “ Native to noblest wits, and best approv'd “ In manly science, and advent'rous deed ! “ Celestial Freedom, by rude hand estrang'd “ From regions once frequented, with Thee takes “ Her fiedfaft ftation, fast beside the throne “Of scepter'd Rule, and there her state maintains “ In social concord, and harmonious love. “ These blessings still be thine, nor medling fiend “ Stir in your busy itreets foul Faction's roar; “ Still thrive your growing works, and gales propitious • Visit your fons who ride the watry waste ; “ And still be heard from forth your gladsome bow'rs “ Shrill tabor-pipes, and ev'ry peaceful sound.
66 Norvain the wish, while George the golden scale “ With steady prudence holds, and temp'rate sway. “ And when his course of earthly honour's run, " With lenient hand shall FREDERIC sooth your care, “ Rich in each princely quality, mature
years, and happiest in nuptual choice. “ Thence too arise new hopes, a playful troop “ Circles his hearth, sweet pledges of that bed, “ Which Faith, and Joy, and thousand Visilies guard. “ His be the care t' inform their ductile minds “ With worthiest thoughts, and point the ways of
“ How often shall he hear with fresh delight
Thus my o'erweening heart the secret stores
Tending the bed of anguish; how great GEORGE
For well was Frederic lov'd, and well deserv'd:
Be this our solace yet; all is not dead ; The bright memorial lives : from his example Shall Hymen trim his torch, domestic praise Be countenanc'd, and virtue fairer shew. In age succeeding when another GEORGE, To ratify some weighty ordinance Of Britain's peers conven'd, shall pass beside Those hallow'd spires, whose gloomy vaults enclose, Shrouded in sleep, pale rows of scepter'd kings, Oft to his sense the sweet paternal voice
And long-remember'd features shall return;
These plaintive strains, from ALBION far away,
Hail wolsey's spacious dome! hail, ever-fam'd For faithful nurture, and truth's sacred lore, Much honour'd parent! You my duteous zeal Accept, if haply in thy laureat wreath You deign to interweave this humble song.
ON THE SAME.
BY MR. JAMES CLITHEROW OF ALL SOULS COLL.
When FREDERIC, ever lov'd, and ever mourn'd, (Such heav'n's high will, and who shall disobey ?) To earth's cold womb in holy pomp return'd: