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Orange, with youth, Experience has,
In Action young, in Council old : Orange is what Augustus was,
Brave, Wary, Provident and Bold.
On that fair Tree which bears his Name,
Blossomis and Fruit at once are found; In him we all admire the fame,
His flow'ry Youth with Wisdom crown'd.
Empire and Freedoni reconcil'd
In Holland are, by Great Nojau;
To willing People he gives Law.
In Royal Blood, and Virtue too; Now Love has you together ty'd,
May none this Tripple Knot undo. The Church shall be the happy Place,
Where Streanis which from the fame source run, Tho' divers Lands a while they Grace,
Unite again, and are made one.
A thousand Thanks the Nation owes,
To him that does protect us all; For while he thus his Neice beftows,
About our Ille he builds a Wall;
A Wall like that which Athens had,
By th' Oracle's Advice, of Wood:
That mighty State 'till now had stood.
By Mrs. Wharton.
How hardly. I conceald my Tears ?
How oft did I complain?
Told me I lov'd in vain.
And hard to be conceald;
But joy will be reveal'd.
T'every Stream and Tree,
For ecchoing back to me.
We want, we wish, believe,
But easy to deceive.
By Sir Charles Sedley.
That is once kindled by so bright an Eye.
For tho' thy Beauty, first allur'd my Sight,
An ODE in Memory of Her Majesty Queen
By a Person of Quality
LONG our divided State,
Hung in the Ballance of a doubtful Fate; When one bright Nymph the gatheringClouds dispellid, And all the Griefs of Albion heal’d. Her the united Land obey'd, No more to Jealousies inclin'd, Nor fearing Pow'r with so much Virtue joyn'd. She knew her Task, and nicely understood
To what Intention Kings are made, Not for their own, but for their People's Gooch 'Twas that prevailing Argument alone, Determin'd her to fill the Vacant Throne; And yet with sadness the beheld, A Crown devolving on her Head, (By the Excesses of a Prince milled) When by her Royal Birth compellid Io what her God, and what her Country claim'd, (Tho' by a Servile Faction blam'd) How graceful were the Tears she thed!
Now like a Tyrant, rising by Degrees
Silent their drooping Heads they bow;
Ev'n he (MARIA's latest Care)
Whom Winter Seasons nor * contending Jove Nor watchful Fleets could from his glorious pur
(pose move: Intrepid in the Storms of War,
And in the midst of Aying Deaths sedate, Now trembles, now he finks beneath the mighty
( Weight, The Hero to the Man gives way,
Unhappy Ie, for half an Age a Prey
Or boldly throwing off the Mask,
* Foul Weather