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XXVIII.

Let Europe fav'd the column high erect,
Than Trajan's higher, or than Antonine's ;
Where fembling art may carve the fair effect,
And full atchievement of thy great defigns.
In a calm heav'n, and a ferener air,

Sublime the Queen fhall on the fummit stand,
From danger far, as far remov'd from fear,
And pointing down to earth her dread command.
All winds, all ftorms that threaten human woe,
Shall fink beneath her feet, and fpread their rage
[below.

XXIX.

There fleets fhall ftrive by winds and waters toft; Till the young Auftrian on Iberia's strand, Great as Æneas on the Latian coaft,

Shall fix his foot: and this, be this the land, Great Jove, where I for ever will remain (The empire's other hope fhall fay) and here Vanquish'd, intomb'd I'll∙lie; or crown'd, I'll reign virtue, to thy British mother dear!

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Like the fam'd Trojan suffer and abide;

For Anne is thine, I ween, as Venus was his guide. XXX.

There, in eternal characters engrav'd,

Vigo, and Gibraltar, and Barcelone.

Their force deftroy'd, their privileges fav'd,
Shall Anna's terrors, and her mercies own:
Spain, from th' ufurper Bourbon's arms retriev’d,
Shall with new life and grateful joy appear,
Numb'ring the wonders which that youth atchiev❜d,
Whom Anna clad in arms, and sent to war ;

Whom Anna fent to claim Iberia's throne:

And made him more than king, in calling him her fon. XXXI.

There Ifter pleas'd, by Blenheim's glorious field
Rolling fhall bid his eastern waves declare
Germania fav'd by Britain's ample fhield,
And bleeding Gaul afflicted by her spear:
Shall bid them mention Marlbro', on that shore
Leading his iflanders renown'd in arms,

Thro' climes, where never British chief before
Or pitch'd his camp, or founded his alarms :
Shall bid them blefs the Queen, who made his ftreams
Glorious as thofe of Boyn, and fafe as thofe of Thames.
XXXII.

Brabantia, clad with fields, and crown'd with tow'rs, With decent joy fhall her Deliv'rer meet;

Shall own thy arms, great Queen, and bless thy pow'ra,
Laying the keys beneath thy fubject's feet.
Flandria, by plenty made the home of war,
Shall weep her crime, and bow to Charles reftor'd
With double vows fhall blefs thy happy care,
In having drawn, and having fheath'd the fword.
From these their fifter provinces fhall know,
How Anne fupports a friend, and how forgives a foc.
XXXIII.

Bright fwords, and crefted helms, and pointed spears
In artful piles around the work fhall lie;
And fhields indented deep in ancient wars,
Blazon'd with figns of Gallic heraldry;

And ftandards with diftinguish'd honours bright,
Marks of high pow'r and national command,

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Which Valois' fons, and Bourbon's bore in fight,
Or gave to Foix', or Montmorancy's hand:
Great fpoils, which Gallia must to Britain yield,
From Crefly's battle fav'd, to grace Ramilia's field.

XXXIV.

And as fine art the fpaces may. difpofe,

The knowing thought and curious eye fhall fee.
Thy emblem, gracious Queen, the British Rofe,
Type of fweet rule, and gentle majefty:
The Northern Thiftle, whom no hoftile hand
Unhurt too rudely may provoke, I ween;
Hibernia's Harp, device of her command,
And parent of her mirth, fhall there be feen:
Thy vanquifh'd Lilies, France, decay'd and torn,
Shall with diforder'd pomp the lafting work adorn.

XXXV.

Beneath, great Queen, oh! very far beneath, Near to the ground, and on the humble bafe, To fave herfelf from darknefs, and from death, That Mufe defires the laft, the lowest place; Who tho' unmeet, yet touch'd the trembling ftring; For the fair fame of Anne and Albion's land, Who durft of war and martial fury fing:

And when thy will, and when thy subject's hand Had quell'd thofe wars, and bid that fury ceafe; Hangs up her grateful harp to conqueft, and to peace.

CANTATA.

Set by MONSIEUR GALLIARD.

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REGIT.

ENEATH a verdant lawrel's ample fhade, His lyre to mournful numbers ftrung, Horace, immortal bard, fupinely laid, To Venus thus addrefs'd the fong: Ten thousand little Loves around Lift'ning, dwelt on ev'ry found.

ARIET.

Potent Venus, bid thy fon

Sound no more his dire alarms.
Youth on filent wings is flown:
Graver years come rolling on.
Spare my age, unfit for arms:.
Safe and humble let me reft,
From all am'rous care releas'd.

Potent Venus, bid thy fon

Sound no more his dire alarms.

RECIT.

Yet, Venus, why do I each morn prepare

The fragrant wreath for Cloe's hair?

Why do I all day lament and figh,

Unless the beauteous maid be nigh?

And why all night purfue her in my dreams,
Through flow'ry meads, and crystal streams?

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RECIT.

Thus fung the bard; and thus the goddefs fpoke; Submiffive bow to Love's imperious yoke:

Ev'ry ftate, and ev'ry age

Shall own my rule, and fear my rage:
Compell'd by me thy mufe fhall prove,
That all the world was born to love.

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Often praife, and always love her:
Through her ear her heart obtain.
Verse shall please, and fighs fhall move her:
Cupid does with Phoebus reign.

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HER RIGHT NAME.

S Nancy at her toilet fat,

Admiring this, and blaming that;
Tell me, the faid; but tell me true;
The nymph who cou'd your heart fubdue,
What fort of charms does the poffefs?
Abfolve me, fair one, I'll confefs s;
With pleasure I reply'd. Her hair,
In ringlets rather dark than fair,
Does down her iv'ry bofom roll,
And hiding half, adorns the whole.

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