[Page 273]


1 YES every hopeful son of rhyme
2 Will surely seize this happy time,
3 Vault upon Pegasus's back,
4 Now grown an academic hack,
5 And sing the beauties of a Queen,
6 (Whom, by the by, he has not seen)
7 Will swear her eyes are black as jet,
8 Her teeth in pearls as coral set,
9 Will tell us that the rose has lent
10 Her cheek its bloom, her lips its scent,
11 That Philomel breaks off her song,
12 And listens to her sweeter tongue;
13 That Venus and the Graces join'd
14 To form this Phoenix of her kind,
15 And Pallas undertook to store
16 Her mind with Wisdom's chiefest lore;
17 Thus form'd, Jove issues a decree
18 That George's consort she shall be:
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19 Then Cupid (for what match is made
20 By poets without Cupid's aid?)
21 Picks out the swiftest of his darts,
22 And pierces instant both their hearts.
23 Your fearful Prose-men here might doubt
24 How best to bring this match about,
25 For winds and waves are ill-bred things,
26 And little care for Queens and Kings;
27 But as the Gods assembled stand,
28 And wait each youthful bard's command,
29 All fancy'd dangers they deride
30 Of boisterous winds, and swelling tide;
31 Neptune is call'd to wait upon her,
32 And sea-nymphs are her maids of honour;
33 Whilst we, instead of eastern gales,
34 With vows and praises fill the sails,
35 And when, with due poetic care
36 They safely land the Royal Fair,
37 They catch the happy simile
38 Of Venus rising from the sea.
39 Soon as she moves, the hill and vale
40 Responsive tell the joyful tale;
41 And wonder holds th' enraptur'd throng
42 To see the Goddess pass along;
43 The bowing forests all adore her,
44 And flowers spontaneous spring before her,
45 Where you and I all day might travel,
46 And meet with nought but sand and gravel;
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47 But poets have a piercing eye,
48 And many pretty things can spy,
49 Which neither you nor I can see,
50 But then the fault's in you and me.
51 The King astonish'd must appear,
52 And find that Fame has wrong'd his dear;
53 Then Hymen, like a bishop, stands,
54 To join the lovers' plighted hands;
55 Apollo and the Muses wait,
56 The nuptial song to celebrate.
57 But I, who rarely spend my time
58 In paying court or spinning rhyme,
59 Who cannot from the high abodes
60 Call down; at will, a troop of Gods,
61 Must in the plain prosaic way
62 The wishes of my soul convey.
63 May Heaven our Monarch's choice approve,
64 May he be blest with mutual love,
65 And be as happy with his Queen
66 As with my Chloe I have been,
67 When wandering thro' the beechen grove,
68 She sweetly smil'd and talk'd of love!
69 And O! that he may live to see
70 A son as wise and good as he;
71 And may his consort grace the throne
72 With virtues equal to his own!
73 Our courtly bards will needs be telling,
74 That she's like Venus, or like Helen;
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75 I wish that she may prove as fair
76 As Egremont and Pembroke are;
77 For tho' by sages 'tis confest,
78 That beauty's but a toy at best;
79 Yet 'tis, methinks, in married life,
80 A pretty douceur with a wife:
81 And may the minutes as they fly
82 Strengthen still the nuptial tye,
83 While hand in hand thro' life they go,
84 Till love shall into friendship grow;
85 For tho' these blessings rarely wait
86 On regal pomp, and tinsel'd state,
87 Yet happiness is virtue's lot,
88 Alike in palace and in cot:
89 'Tis true, the grave affairs of state
90 With little folks have little weight;
91 Yet I confess my patriot heart
92 In Britain's welfare bears its part;
93 With transport glows at George's name,
94 And triumphs in its country's fame:
95 With hourly pleasure I can sit
96 And talk of Granby, Hawke, and Pitt;
97 And whilst I praise the good and brave,
98 Disdain the coward and the knave.
99 At growth of taxes others fret,
100 And shudder at the nation's debt;
101 I ne'er the fancied ills bemoan,
102 No debts disturb me, but my own.
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103 What! tho' our coffers sink, our trade
104 Repairs the breach which war has made;
105 And if expences now run high,
106 Our minds must with our means comply.
107 Thus far my politics extend,
108 And here my warmest wishes end,
109 May Merit flourish, Faction cease,
110 And I and Europe live in Peace!


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About this text

Author: Anonymous
Themes: monarchy (heads of state); poetry; literature; writing
Genres: epistle; parody
References: DMI 26612

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Pearch, G. A collection of poems in four volumes. By several hands. Vol. IV. [The second edition]. London: printed for G. Pearch, 1770, pp. 273-277. 4v. ; 8⁰. (ESTC T116245; DMI 1137; OTA K093079.004) (Page images digitized from a copy in the Bodleian Library [(OC) 280 o.791].)

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The text has been typographically modernized, but without any silent modernization of spelling, capitalization, or punctuation. The source of the text is given and all editorial interventions have been recorded in textual notes. Based on the electronic text originally produced by the TCP project, this ECPA text has been edited to conform to the recommendations found in Level 5 of the Best Practices for TEI in Libraries version 4.0.0.