As none but fhe, who in that court did dwell,
Could know fuch worth, or worth describe so well.
So while we mortals here at heav'n do guess,
And more our weakness than the place express,
Some angel, a domestick there, comes down,
And tells the wonders he hath feen and known. 20
NEW BUILDING AT SOMERSET-HOUSE.
GREAT Queen! that does our island bless
With princes and with palaces;
Treated so ill, chas'd from your throne,
Returning, you adorn the Town;
And with a brave revenge do fhow
Their glory went and came with you.
While Peace from hence and you were gone,
Your houses in that ftorm o'erthrown,
Those wounds which Civil rage did give,
At once you pardon and relieve.
Conftant to England in your love,
As birds are to their wonted grove.
Tho' by rude hands their nefts are spoil'd,
There the next spring again they build.
* Henrietta Maria, queen-dowager of K. Charles I.
Volume I.
Accufing fome malignant star,
Not Britain, for that fatal war,
Your kindness banishes your fear,
Refoly'd to fix for ever here.
But what new mine this work supplies?
Can such a pile from ruin rise?
This, like the first creation, shows,
As if at your command it rofe.
Frugality and bounty too
(Those diff'ring virtues) meet in you:
From à confin'd, well-manag'd store,
You both employ and feed the poor.
Let foreign princes vainly boast
The rude effects of pride and coft;
Of vafter fabricks, to which they
Contribute nothing but the pay;
This, by the Queen herself defign'd,
Gives us a pattern of her mind;
The state and order does proclaim
The genius of that Royal Dame.
Each part with just proportion grac'd,
And all to fuch advantage plac'd,
That the fair view her window yields,
The town, the river, and the fields,
Ent'ring, beneath us we defcry,
And wonder how we came fo high.
She needs no weary steps afcend;
All feems before her feet to bend;
And here, as the was born, the lies,
High, without taking pains to rise.
OF A TREE CUT IN PAPER.
FAIR hand! that can on virgin-paper write,
Yet from the stain of ink preferve it white;
Whofe travel o'er that filver field does.fhow
Like track of leverets in morning fnow.
Love's image thus in pureft minds is wrought,
Without a spot or blemish to the thought.
Strange that your fingers fhould the pencil foil,
Without the help of colours or of oil!
For tho' a painter boughs and leaves can make,
Tis you alone can make them bend and shake; 10
Whose breath falutes your new-created grove,
Like fouthern winds, and makes it gently move.
Orpheus could make the foreft dance, but you
Can make the motion and the forest too.
PRINCESS OF ORANGE.
As once the lion honey gave,
Out of the strong such sweetness came ;
A royal hero, no less brave,
Produc'd this fweet, this lovely dame,
To her the prince, that did oppose
Such mighty armies in the field,
And Holland from prevailing foes
Could fo well free, himself does yield.
Not Belgia's flect (his high command)
Which triumphs where the fun does rife,
Nor all the force he leads by land,
Could guard him from her conquʼring eyes.
Orange with youth experience has ;
In action young, in council old:
Orange is what Augustus was,
Brave, wary, provident, and bold.
On that fair tree which bears his name,
Bloffoms and fruit at once are found:
In him we all admire the fame,
His flow'ry youth with wifdom crown'd!
Empire and freedom reconcil'd
In Holland are by great Naffau:
Like those he fprung from juft and mild,
To willing people he gives law.
Thrice-happy Pair! fo near ally'd
In royal blood, and virtue too!
Now Love has you together ty'd,
May none this triple knot undo!
he church fhall be the happy place
There streams which from the fame fource run, 36
ho' divers lands awhile they grâce,
nite again, and are made one.
A thousand thanks the nation owes
To him that does protect us all,
or while he thus his niece bestows,
About our isle he builds a wall;
A wall! like that which Athens had,
By th' oracle's advice, of wood:
Had theirs been fuch as Charles has made,
That mighty state till now had stood.
OF ENGLISH VERSE.
POETS may boaft, as fafely vain,
Their works fhall with the world remain:
Both bound together live or die,
'The verses and the prophecy.
But who can hope his line fhould long
Laft in a daily changing tongue?
While they are new envy prevails,
And as that dies our language fails.
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