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66 Preserve, O urn ! his filent dust,

" Who faithful did obey
« Princes like Anna good and just,
" Yet scorn'd his freedom to betray ;

And, hated by all tyrants, chose
“ The glory to have such his foes..".


A U G U S T A.

Genius of Britain! give thy sorrows o'er..

A grateful tribute thou hast paid
To thy Devonia's noble fhade;

Now, vainly weep the dead no more!
For see the duke and patriot still furvives,

And in his Great Successor lives.


Β R Ι Τ Α Ν Ν Ι Α,

I own the new arising light,
I see paternal grandeur fine,
Descending, through th' illustrious line,
In the same royal favours bright.


Last DUETTO, with all the instruments.
Brit. Gently finooth thy flight, Orime !
Aug. Smoothly wing thy flight, O time!
Both. And as thou flying groweft old,

Still this happy race behold
In Britannia's court sublime.


Brit. Lead along their finiling hours ;
Aug. Long produce their smiling hours;
Both. Bleft by all auspicious powers.
Brit, Gently smooth thy flight, O time!
Aug. Smoothly wing thy fight, o time !
Both. And as thou flying growest old,

Still this happy race behold
In Britannia's court sublime,


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At the Queen's Theatre, on his Benefit-Night, February 16, 1709; a little before the Duke of

Marlborough's going for Holland.
WHETHER our stage all others does excell

In strength of wit, we'll not presume to tell:
But this, with noble, conscious pride, we'll say,
No Theatre such glories can display ;
Such worth conspicuous, beauty so divine, 5
As in one British audience mingled line.
Who can, without amazement, turn his fight,
And mark the awful circle here to-night?
Warriors, with ever-living laurels, brought
From empires fav’d, from battles bravely fought, 10
Here fit; whose matchless story shall adorn
Scenes yet unwrit, and charm e'en ages yet unborn,
Yet who would not expect such martial fire,
That sees what'eyes those gallant deeds inspire >

Valour and Beauty still were Britain's claim, 15
Both are her great prerogatives of Fame;
By both the Mules live, from both they catch their

Then as by you, in folid glory bright,
Oar envy'd ifle through Europe spreads her light,
And rising honours every year fustain,
And mark the golden track of Anne's distinguish'd

reign ;
So, by your presence here, we'll strive to raise
To nobler heights our action and our plays ;
And Poets from your favours shall derive
That immortality they boal to give.


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G R Ε Ε Ν Η Ι Τ Η Ε.

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GREAT pr ficient of light, and eve of day,

As through this glass you cast your visual ray,
And view with nuptial joys two brothers blest,
And see us celebra'e the genial fealt,
Confess thai, in your progress round the sphere,
You've found the happiest youths and brightest beau-

ties here.

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WHILE circling healtis inspire your sprightly

wit, And on each glass some beauty's praise is writ, You ask, my friends, how can my silent Muse To Montague's soft name a verse refuse ? Bright though fhe be, of, race victorious sprung, By wits ador’d, and by court- poets sung, Unmov'd I hear her person call’d divine, I see her features uninspiring shine ; A fofter fair my foul to transport warms, And, he once nam'd, no other nymph has charms.


MUSIC has learn'd the discords of the fate

And concerts jar with whig and tory hate.
Here Somerset and Devon thire attend
The British Tofts, and every note commend,
To native merit juft, and pleas’d to see
We've Roman arts, from Roman bondage free,
There fam'd L'Epine does equal skill employ,
While listening peers crowd to th’ ecstatic joy :
Bedford, to hear her song, his dice forfakes,
And Nottingham is raptur'd when the shakes :

Lullid statesmen melt away their drowsy cares
Of England's safety in Italian airs.
Who would not send each year blank passes o'er,
Rather than keep such strangers from our More ?'


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HE Graces and the wandering Loves

Are fled to diftant plains,
To chace the fawns, or deep in groves

To wound admiring swains.
With their bright mistress there they ftray,

Who turns her careless eyes
From daily triumphs ; yet, each day,
Beholds new triumphs in her way,
And conquers while she Aies.

But see ! implor'd, by moving prayers,

To change the lover's pain,
Venus her harness'd doves prepares,

And brings the fair again.
Proud mortals, who this inaid pursue,

Think you, she'll e'er resign?
Cease, fools, your wishes to renew,
Till Me grows flesh and blood like you,

Or you, like her, divine !

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