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Thy beamy wing at once defends and warms
Fainting Religion, whilft in various forms
Fair Piety fhines thro' the British ifles.

Here at thy fide and in thy kindeft smiles *
Blazing in ornamental gold fhe ftands

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To blefs thy councils and aflift thy hands,

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And crowds wait round her to receive commands:
There at a humble diftance from the throne +
Beauteous fhe lies, her luftre all her own,
Ungarnifh'd, yet not blushing nor afraid,
Nor knows fufpicion nor affects the fhade :
Cheerful and pleas'd, the not prefumes to fhare
In thy parental gifts but owns thy guardian care.
For thee, dear Sov'reign! endlefs vows arife,
And Zeal with earthly wing falutes the skies
To gain thy fafety: here a folemn form*
Of ancient words keeps the devotion warm,
And guides but bounds our wifhes: there the mind †
Feels its own fire, and kindles unconfin'd

With bolder hopes; yet ftill beyond our vows

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Thy lovely glories rife, thy fpreading terrour grows. Princefs! the world already owns thy name;

Go mount the chariot of immortal Fame,

Nor die to be renown'd: Fame's loudeft breath 45 'Too dear is purchas'd by an angel's death.

*The established church of England. The Proteftant Dillenters.

* Ibid.

tfbid.

The vengeance of thy rod with gen'ral joy
Shall fcourge rebellion and the rival boy *;
Thy founding arms his Gallick patron hears,
And speeds his flight, not overtakes his fears
Till hard defpair wring from the tyrant's foul
The iron tears out. Let thy frown control
Our angry jars at home till Wrath submit
Her impious banners to thy facred feet;

Mad Zeal and Phrenzy with their murd'rous train
Fly thefe fweet realms in thine aufpicious reign,
Envy expire in rage, and Treafon bite the chain.

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Let no black scene affright fair Albion's stage; Thy thread of life prolong our Golden Age; Long bless the earth, and late ascend thy throne 60 Ethereal; (not thy deeds are there unknown Nor there unfung, for by thy awful hands Heav'nrules the waves and thunders o'er the lands, Creates inferiour kings † and gives them their commands.)

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Legions attend thee at the radiant gates;
For thee thy fifter-seraph, bless'd Maria, waits.
But oh! the parting ftroke! fome heav'nly pow'r
Cheer thy fad Britons in the gloomy hour;

The Pretender.

+ She made Charles the Emperour's fecond fon King of Spain, who is now Emperour of Germany.

Some new propitious star appear on high,
The fairest glory of the western sky,
And Anna be its name, with gentle fway
To check the planets of malignant ray,

Sooth the rude north wind and the rugged Bear,
Calm rifing wars, heal the contagious air,

And reign with peaceful influence to the southern

sphere *!

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Palinodia.

BRITONS! forgive the forward Mufe
That dar'd prophetick feals to loose,
(Unskill'd in Fate's eternal book)
And the deep characters mistook.

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George is the name, that glorious star;

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Ye faw his fplendours beaming far,

*Note. This poem was written in the year 1705, in that honourable part of the reign of our late Queen when the had broke the French power at Blenheim, asserted the right of Charles the present Emperour to the Crown of Spain, exerted her zeal for the Proteftant fucceffion, and promited inviolably to maintain the toleration to the Proteftant Diffenters. Thus the appeared the chief fupport of the Reformation, and the patronefs of the liberties of Europe.

The latter part of her reign was of a different colour, and was by no means attended with the accomplishment of those glorious hopes which we had conceived. Now the Muse cannot fatisfy herself to publish this new edition without acknowledging the mistake of her former prefages, and while the does the world this juftice the does herself the honour of a voluntary retractation.

Auguft 1. 1721.

Saw in the east your joys arise,

When Anna funk in western skies,

Streaking the heav'ns with crimson gloom,
Emblems of tyranny and Rome,
Portending blood and night to come.
'Twas George diffus'd a vital ray
And gave the dying nations day;
His influence fooths the Ruffian Bear,
Calms rifing wars and heals the air;
Join'd with the fun his beams are hurl'd
To scatter bleffings round the world,
Fulfil whate'er the Mufe has spoke,

And crown the work that Anne forfook.
Auguft 1. 1721.

To John Locke, Efq. retired from bufinefs.

I.

ANGELS are made of heav'nly things,
And light and love our fouls compofe,
Their blifs within their bosom springs,
Within their bofom flows;

But narrow minds still make pretence
To fearch the coafts of flesh and fenfe
And fetch diviner pleasures thence.
Men are akin t'ethereal forms,
But they belie their nobler birth,
Debase their honour down to earth,

And claim a fhare with worms,

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II.

He that has treasures of his own

May leave the cottage or the throne,
May quit the globe, and dwell alone
Within his fpacious mind.

Locke hath a foul wide as the fea,

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Calm as the night, bright as the day,

There may his vast ideas play,

Nor feel a thought confin'd.

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To John Shute, Efq. (now Lord Barrington) on Mr. Locke's dangerous fickness, fome time after be bad retired to ftudy the Scriptures.

I.

AND must the man of wondrous mind

June 1704.

(Now his rich thoughts are just refin'd) Forfake our longing eyes?

Reafon at length fubmits to wear

The wings of Faith, and lo, they rear

Her chariot high, and nobly bear

Her Prophet to the skies!

II.

Go, friend, and wait the Prophet's flight,
Watch if his mantle chance to light,
And feize it for thy own;

Shute is the darling of his years,
young Shute his better likeness bears;
All but his wrinkles and his hairs
Are copy'd in his fon.

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