Till the young Austrian on Iberia's strand, Shall fix his foot: and this, be this the land, Like the fam'd Trojan suffer and abide; For Anne is thine, I ween, as Venus was his guide. There, in eternal characters engrav❜d, Vigo,1 and Gibraltar, and Barcelone, Their force destroy'd, their privileges sav'd, Shall Anna's terrors and her mercies own: Spain, from th' usurper Bourbon's arms retriev❜d, Shall with new life and grateful joy appear, Numbering the wonders which that youth achiev'd, Whom Anna clad in arms and sent to war; Whom Anna sent to claim Iberia's throne; And made him more than king, in calling him her son. There Isther, pleas'd by Blenheim's glorious field, Rolling shall bid his eastern waves declare Germania sav'd by Britain's ample shield, 1 Vigo was surprised by the Duke of Ormond and Sir George Rooke, and the galleons taken and destroyed in the year 1702; Gibraltar by Sir George Rooke in 1704; and Barcelona by the Prince of Hesse and the Earl of Peterborough in 1705. And bleeding Gaul afflicted by her spear; streams ; Glorious as those of Boyne, and safe as those of Thames. Brabantia, clad with fields, and crown'd with towers, With decent joy shall her deliverer meet; powers, Laying the keys beneath thy subject's feet. Shall weep her crime, and bow to Charles restor❜d; Bright swords, and crested helms, and pointed spears, In artful piles around the work shall lie; And standards with distinguish'd honours bright, Which Valois' sons, and Bourbon's bore in fight, Or gave to Foix' or Montmorency's hand: Great spoils, which Gallia must to Britain yield, From Cressy's battle sav'd, to grace Ramilia's field. And, as fine art the spaces may dispose, The knowing thought and curious eye shall see Thy emblem, gracious queen, the British rose, Type of sweet rule and gentle majesty: The northern thistle, whom no hostile hand Unhurt too rudely may provoke, I ween; Hibernia's harp, device of her command, And parent of her mirth, shall there be seen: Thy vanquish'd lilies, France, decay'd and torn, Shall with disorder'd pomp the lasting work adorn. Beneath, great queen, oh! very far beneath, Near to the ground, and on the humble base, To save herself from darkness and from death, That Muse desires the last, the lowest place; Who, though unmeet, yet touch'd the trembling string, For the fair fame of Anne and Albion's land, Who durst of war and martial fury sing; peace. HER RIGHT NAME. As Nancy at her toilet sat, Admiring this, and blaming that; Tell me, she said; but tell me true; The nymph who could your heart subdue. What sort of charms does she possess? Absolve me, fair one I'll confess With pleasure, I replied. Her hair, In ringlets rather dark than fair, Does down her ivory bosom roll, And, hiding half, adorns the whole. In her high forehead's fair half round Love sits in open triumph crown'd: He in the dimple of her chin, In private state by friends is seen. Her eyes are neither black nor gray; Nor fierce nor feeble is their ray; Their dubious lustre seems to show Something that speaks nor yes, nor no. Her lips no living bard, I weet, May say, how red, how round, how sweet; Old Homer only could indite Their vagrant grace and soft delight: They stand recorded in his book, When Helen smil'd, and Hebe spoke The gipsy, turning to her glass, Too plainly show'd she knew the face; CANTATA. SET BY MONSIEUR GALLIARD. RECIT. BENEATH a verdant laurel's ample shade, ARIET. Potent Venus, bid thy son Sound no more his dire alarms. Safe and humble let me rest, Potent Venus, bid thy son Sound no more his dire alarms. |