Your fearful profe-men here might doubt,
How best to bring this match about,
For winds and waves are ill-bred things,
And little care for queens and kings;
But as the gods affembled ftand,
And wait each youthful bard's command,
All fancy'd dangers they deride,
Of boift'rous winds, and fwelling tide;
Neptune is call'd to wait upon her,
And fea-nymphs are her maids of honour;
Whilft we, instead of Eaftern gales,
With vows and praises fill the fails,
And when, with due poetic care,
They fafely land the royal fair,
They catch the happy fimile
Of Venus rifing from the fea.
Soon as fhe moves, the hill and vale,
Refponfive, tell the joyful tale;

And wonder holds th' enraptur'd throng
To fee the goddefs pafs along,
The bowing forefts all adore her,

And flow'rs fpontaneous fpring before her,
Where you and I all day might travel,
And meet with nought but fand and gravel:
But poets have a piercing eye,
And many a pretty thing can spy,
Which neither you nor I can fee,
But then the fault's in you and me.
The king aftonifh'd muft appear,
And find that fame has wrong'd his dear;
Then Hymen, like a bifhop, ftands,
To join the lovers' plighted hands;
Apollo and the Mufes wait,
The nuptial fong to celebrate;
But I, who rarely spend my time,
In paying court or spinning rhyme;
Who cannot from the high abodes
Call down, at will, a troop of gods,
Muft, in a plain profaic way,

The wifhes of my foul convey.

May Heav'n our monarch's choice approve,

May he be bleft with mutual love,

And be as happy with his queen,

As with my Chloe I have been:

When wandering through the beechen grove,
She fweetly fmil'd and talk'd of love!

And oh! that he might live to see

A fon as wife, and good as he;

X

And

And may his comfort grace the throne
With virtues equal to his own!
Our courtly bards will needs be telling,
That fhe's like Venus or like Helen:
I wish that the may prove as fair
As Egremont and Pembroke are:
For tho' by fages 'tis confeft,
That beauty's but a toy at beft;
Yet 'tis, methinks, in married life,
A pretty douceur with a wife:
And may the minutes as they fly,
Strengthen ftill the nuptial tye,
While hand in hand thro' life they go,
Till love fhall into friendship grow;
For tho' thefe bleffings rarely wait,
On regal pomp and tinfel'd ftate,
Yet happiness is virtue's lot,
Alike in palace and in cot:
'Tis true, the grave affairs of ftate,
With little folks have little weight;
Yet I confefs my patriot heart
In Britain's welfare bears its part;
With tranfport glows at George's name,
And triumphs in its country's fame:
With hourly pleasure I can fit

And talk of Granby, Hawke, and Pitt;
And whilft I praife the good and brave,
Difdain the coward and the knave.
At growth of taxes others fret,
And fhudder at the nation's debt;
I ne'er the fancied ills bemoan,
No debts difturb me but my own.
What! tho' our coffers fink, our trade
Repairs the breach which war has made;
And if expences now run high,

Our minds muft with our means comply.
Thus far my politics extend,
And here my warmeft withes end,

May merit flourish, faction cease,

And I and Europe live in peace!

Humility

Humility exalted; or, the glorious transformation. A little Persian falle, poetically paraphrased from the Spectator. (Vol. iv. Numb. 239.)

-Nobilitas sola est atque unica Virtus.

Virtue is Beauty.

NE cloudy day a drop of rain,

As he hung hovering o'er the main)

Cry'd out with innate modefty,
What can I add, O flood, to thee?
When once upon thy furface tofs'd
In thy immenfity I'm loft;
Of no importance to thy wave;
I feem, at laft, to meet my grave.
O! why fhould Jove, all-good, all wife,
The leaft of all his creatures prize?
Why fhould his bleffings downward fly
On fuch a worthless form as I?

With pleasure Jove his ear inclin'd

To one fo humble, fo refign'd.
True merit claims his high regard,
And feldom lofes its reward,
This modeft, unambitious drop
Soon by an oyfter's fwallowed up;
Content within its fhell he lies,
And there to heav'n erects his eyes;
To Jove directs his daily pray'r,
And thanks the godhead for his care.
His praifes, incenfe like, arife,

And, as they mount, perfume the fkies.

DR. YOUNG.

Pleas'd with thy pray'rs and with thy praife,

I'll now, faid Jove, thy fortune raise,

Henceforth become (fo Heav'n fees good)

A pearl of the firft magnitude.

And, thus transform'd with speed resort
To fair Britannia's fplendid court:
There all thy radiant luftre spread
Around my fav'rite Charlotte's head:
Tell her 'twas I, Jove, fent thee down
To ftand confpicuous on her crown:
Since well, I know, in her eftcem,
Virtue's the brightest diadem.

D. B.

VERSES on the King's Marriage, taken from the Oxford and Cambridge Collections presented to his Majesty on that Occasion.

By Mr. SPENCE. From the Oxford Collection.

A

T length the gallant navy from afar

Rifes in profpect, with expanded wings
Improving the kind gale, fo long delay'd;
And wings in pompous pride her eafy way

To Albion's fhore, charg'd with the precious freight
Of England's deareft hopes, and George's love.
Not fo defir'd, nor with fuch treasure fraught,
Arrives the wealthy convoy, from the coaft
Of Ceylon or Golconda; laden deep
With spicy drugs, barbaric gems, and gold.
Nor he who circled in his daring course
The globe entire, old Ocean's utmost round,
Brought back fo rich a prize, though with the fpoils
Of proud Iberia loaded he return'd;

Or captive in his halfers when he dragg'd
The vanquish'd Gallic fleets; as now he brings,
More welcome, from Germania's friendly fhore.
Hail kindred regions, dear parental foil,
Saxonian plains! where deep Vifurgis flows,
Where Leina's doubly-honour'd waters glide,
Where mighty Albis draws his humid train!
England to you with grateful homage pays
Filial obeyfance meet: to you fhe owes

Her name, her tribes, her generous race; to you
Her first, her lateft bleffings. Forth from you
Iffu'd our fires, old Woden's high-born fons;
Great Woden deemed a God, with uncouth rites
By his rude offspring worfhipp'd: they their courfe
Adventurous fteer'd to thefe alluring thores.
First Hengift, valiant chief; nor yet lefs wife
Than valiant: he the Cantian wold obtain'd,
His new domain; yielded by focial league,
Or won by fair Rowena's conquering charms.
Next Ella, Cerdic, and th' intrepid race
Of Anglian's from Eydora's northern stream,
Pour'd in their numerous hofts: nor British prowess,
Nor Merlin's fpells, nor Arthur's puiflant fword
Hight Caliburn, fam'd in romantic tale,
Could long withstand th' impetuous onfet bold
Of our great fires in battle. Soon they rais'd
On Britain's ruins, feven imperial thrones ;"
Seven thrones conjoin'd at length in Cerdic's race:
From whofe high fource the ftream of regal blood,
Through the long line of English monarch's, flows
VOL. IV.

Q

Down to the illuftrious houfe of Lunenbourg,
From ancient Brunfwic nam'd, (Brunswic, the feat
Primeval of Saxonian chieftains old)

To George, great heir of Anglo-Saxon Kings.
And thou, Saxonia's brightest ornament
Erewhile, now England's boaft, and highest pride,
Welcome to thefe congenial fhores! to this
Ambiguous land, another Saxony.

See thine own people, thy compatriot tribes,
With heart-felt joy, and zealous loud acclaim,
Thy bleft arrival hait. Tho' fever'd long
From their original foil, on foreign ftock
Tho' grafted, not degenerate; ftill within
Works the wild vigour of the parent root.
Rough, hardy, brave; by force intractable,
Or lawless rule; patient of equal fway;
With civil freedom tempering regal pow'r.
Be this thy better country; nor regret
Thy natal plains, tho' dear; here thou fhalt find
What largely fhall o'erpay thy lofs. Lo! here
Thy parent, brother, friend, all charities
Compriz'd in one, thy confort, with fond with.
Expects thee; fcepter'd George, with every grace
Adorn'd; yet more renown'd for virtue's praise,
Faith, honour, in green years wifdom mature;
Trse majefty with aweful goodnefs crown'd. >
He fhall affuage thy grief: his thoughtful breast,
Studious of England's glory and Europe's weal,
Thou in return fhalt footh; with tender fmiles,
Endearing blandifhment, and equal love.

Nor fhall, heav'ns gift, fruit of the genial bed
Be wanting; pledge of public happiness

Secure; dear fource of long domeftic joys.
Here thou thalt reign a fecond Caroline;
Diffufing from the throne a milder ray,
Soft beauty's unexpreflive influence fweet.
Prompt to relieve th' oppreft; to wipe away
The widow's tears; to call forth modeft worth y
To cherish drooping virtue: patronefs
Of fcience and of arts; friend to the Mufe,
Of every grateful Mufe the favourite theme.

Hail, fov'rain lady, deareft dread! accept
Ev'n, now this homage of th' officious mufe,
That on the verge extreme of Albion's cliff
With gratulation thy firft fteps prevents,
Tho' mean, yet ardent; and falutes thine ear
With kindred accents in Teutonic lays.

JOSEPH SPENCE, M. A.
Regius Profeffor of Modern Hiftory.