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Henceforth, when to the listening universe

Thou number'st o'er my princes of renown,
The second hope of Britain's crown,

When my great Edward's deeds thou fhalt rehearse, And tell of Creffy's well-fought plain,

Thy golden trumpet found again!

The brave Augustus shall renew thy strain, And Oudenarda's fight immortalize the verse.

AIR with a harp.

Heavenly Mufes! tune your lyres,
Far refounding;

Grace the hero's glorious name.
See! the fong new life inspires!
Every breaft, with joy abounding,
Seems to fhare the Hero's flame.

FAME.

O thou, with every virtue crown'd,
Britannia's father, and her king renown'd!
Thus in thy offspring greatly bleft,
While through th' extended royal line
Thou feeft thy propagated luftre shine,
What fecret raptures fill thy breast!
So fmiles Apollo, doubly gay,
When in the diamond, with full blaze,
He views his own paternal rays,
And all his bright reflected day.

CAM

CAMBRIA.

Hail fource of bleffings to our isle!
While gloomy clouds shall take their flight,
Shot through by thy victorious light,
Propitious ever on thy Britons smile!

BOTH VOICES.

To joy, to triumphs, dedicate the day.

CAMBRIA.

Rife, goddess of immortal fame,
And, with thy trumpet's swelling found,
To all Britannia's realms around,

The double festival proclaim.

FAME.

The goddess of immortal fame
Shall, with her trumpet's swelling found,

To all Britannia's realms around,

The double festival proclaim.

BOTH VOICES.

O'er Cambria's distant hills let the loud notes rebound! Each British foul be rais'd, and every eye be gay! To joy, to triumphs, dedicate the day.

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TH

HIS little Poem was writ by the acci "dent of having Horace for my com"panion in a confinement by fickness, and fancying "I had difcovered a new fenfe of one of his odes, for "which I have found your lordship's great indulgence "and partiality to me, the best expofition.

66 Perhaps we never read with that attention, as "when we think we have found fomething applicable

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to ourselves. I am now grown fond enough of this "fenfe to believe it the true one, and have drawn two 46 or three learned friends (to whom I have mentioned "it) into my opinion.

"The Ode, your lordship will fee, is that in which "Horace feigns himself turned into a fwan. It passes "(for aught I know univerfally) for a compliment on "himfelf, and a mere enthufiaftick rant of the poet "in his own praife, like his EXEGI MONUMENTUM, ་་ "&c. I confefs I had often slightly read it in that

"view, and have found every one I have lately asked, "deceived by the fame opinion, which I cannot but "think spoils the ode, and finks it to nothing; I had "almost said, turns the swan into a goose.

"The Grammarians feem to have fallen into this "miftake, by wholly overlooking the reafon of his "rapture, viz. its being addressed to Mecenas; and "have prefaced it with this, and the like general in"fcriptions-VATICINATUR CARMINUM SUORUM "IMMORTALITATEM, &c. which I think is not the

" fubject.

“I am very happy in the occasion which shewed it "me in a quite different fenfe from what I had ever apprehended, till I had the honour to be known to

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your lordship; I am fure a much more advantage"ous one to the Poet, as well as more just to his great 66 patron. If I have exceeded the liberty of an imi"tator, in pursuing the fame hint further, to make "it lefs doubtful, yet his favourers will forgive me, "when I own I have not on this occafion fo much "thought of emulating his poetry, as of rivaling his "pride, by the ambition of being known as,

MY LORD,

YOUR LORDSHIP'S MOST OBLIGED,

AND DEVOTED HUMBLE SERVANT,

J. HUGHES.

ODE

D

E

TO THE RIGHT HONOURABLE

LORD CHANCELLOR COWPER.

ANNO MDCCXVII.

IN ALLUSION TO HORACE, LIB. II. ODE XX.

I

I.

'M rais'd, tranfported, chang'd all o'er !
Prepar'd, a towering fwan, to foar

Aloft; fee, fee the down arise,

And clothe my back, and plume my thighs!
My wings fhoot forth; now will try
New tracks, and boldly mount the sky;
Nor Envy, nor Ill-fortune's spite,
Shall ftop my courfe, or damp my flight.

II.

Shall I, obfcure or difefteem'd,

Of vulgar rank henceforth be deem'd?

Or vainly toil my name to fave
From dark oblivion and the grave?

No-He can never wholly die,

Secure of immortality,

Whom Britain's Cowper condefcends

To own, and numbers with his friends.

III. 'Tis

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