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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 heaven, 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 woc,
Shall fink beneath her feet, and fpread their rage below.

XXIX.

Their fleets fhall ftrive, by winds and waters toft, Till the young Austrian on Iberia's ftrand,

Great as Æneas on the Latian coast,

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—
O virtue to thy British mother dear!

Like the fam'd Trojan fuffer 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,
Numbering the wonders which that youth atchiev'd,
Whom Anna clad in arms, and fent to war;
S 2

Whom

Whom Anna fent to claim Iberia's throne;

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

XXXI.

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

Through 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 Boyne, and safe as those of Thames.

XXXII.

Brabantia, clad with fields, and crown'd with towers, With decent joy thall her deliverer meet;

Shall own thy arms, great Queen, and blefs thy powers,
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 bless thy happy care,
In having drawn, and having sheath'd the sword;
From these their sister provinces shall know,

How Anne fupports a friend, and how forgives a foe.

XXXIII.

Bright fwords, and crested helms, and pointed spears, In artful piles around the work shall lie; And shields indented deep in ancient wars, Blazon'd with figus of Gallic heraldry;

And

And standards with diftinguish'd honours bright,
Marks of high power and, national command,,
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 Creffy's battle fav'd, to grace Ramilia's field.

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XXXIV.

And, as fine art the fpaces may difpofe,

The knowing thought and curious eye fhall fee
Thy emblem, gracious Queen, the British rose,
Type of fweet rule and gentle majefty:
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, fhall there be feen:
Thy vanquish'd lilies, France, decay'd and torn,
Shall with disorder'd pomp the lasting work adorn.
XXXV.

Beneath, great Queen, oh! very far beneath,
Near to the ground, and on the humble base,
To fave herfelf from darknefs and from death,
That Muse defires the laft, the lowest place;
Who, though unmeet, yet touch'd the trembling fting,
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 fubject's hand,
Had quell'd thofe wars, and bid that fury ceafe;
Hangs up her grateful harp to conqueft, and to peace.

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HER

As

RIGHT

S Nancy at her toilet sat,

NAME..

Admiring this, and blaming that;
Tell me, she said; but tell me true;

The Nymph who could your heart subdue..
What fort of charms does the poffefs?
Abfolve me, fair-one : I'll confefs;.
With pleasure I reply'd.. Her hair,
In ringlets rather dark than fair,
Does down her ivory bofom roll,
And, hiding half, adorns the whole.
In her high forehead's fair half round:
Love fits 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 luftre feems to show
Something that speaks nor Yes, nor No..
Her lips no living bard I weet,

May fay, how red, how round, how sweet}

Old Homer only could indite

Their vagrant grace and foft delight:

They ftand recorded in his book,

When Helen fmil'd, and Hebe spoke-
The gipfey, turning to her glass,
Too plainly fhew'd, fhe knew the face
And which am I moft like, fhe faid,
Your Cloe, or your Nut-brown Maid?

CANTATA.

CANTATA.

Set by Monfieur GALLIARD

RECIT.

BENEATH a verdant laurel's ample shade,
His lyre to mournful numbers ftrung,

Horace, immortal bard, fupinely laid,
To Venus thus addrefs'd the fong:
Ten thousand little Loves around,

Liftening, dwelt on every

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 amorous 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 pursue her in my dreams,
Through flowery meads and cryftal ftreams?

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