HAIL to thee, Gloricus rifing Year,
With what uncommon Grace thy Days appear! Comely art thou in thy Prime,
Lovely Child of hoary Time; Where thy golden Footsteps tread, Pleasures all around thee fpread;
Blifs and Beauty grace thy Train;
Mufe, ftrike the Lyre to fome immortal Strain But oh what Skill, what Mafter Hand,
govern or confirain the wanton Band!
Leofe like my Verfe they Dance, and all without Command
Images of fairest things,
Croud about the speaking Strings; Peace, and fweet Profperity,
Faith and chearful Loyalty, With fmiling Love and deathlefs Poefie.
Ye skowling Shades who break away, Well do ye fly and fhun the Purple Day. Ev'ry Fiend and Fiend-like Form, Black and Sullen as a Storm, Jealous Fear, and false Surmife, Danger with her dreadful Eyes, Faction, Fury, all are fled,
And bold Rebellion hides her daring Head. Behold! thou gracious Year, behold,
To whom thy Treasures all thou shalt unfold, For whom thy whiter Days were kept from times of Old! See thy GEORGE, for this is he!
On his Right Hand, waiting free, Britain and fair Liberty:
Every Good is in his Face,
Every open honest Grace.
Thou great Plantagenet! immortal be thy Race!
See! the Sacred Scyon springs,
See the glad Promise of a Line of Kings Royal Youth! what Bard Divine, Equal to a Praife like thine,
Shall in fome exalted Measure
Sing thee, Britain's dearest Treasure?
Who her Joy in thee fhall tell,
Who the sprightly Note fhall fwell, His Voice attemp'ring to the tuneful Shell? Thee Audenard's recorded Field
Bold in thy brave Paternal Band beheld, And faw with hopeless Heart thy fainting Rival yield; Troubled he, with fore Difmay,
To thy ftronger Fate gave way, Safe beneath thy Noble Scorn, Wingy-footed was he Born,
Swift as the fleeting Shades upon the golden Corn.
What Valour, what diftinguish'd Worth, From thee shall lead the coming Ages forth
Crested Helms and fhining Shields,
Warriors fam'd in foreign Fields; Hoary Heads with Olive bound, Kings and Lawgivers renown'd: Crowding still they Rise anew, Beyond the Reach of deep Prophetick View. Young AUGUSTUS! Never cease! Pledge of our Present and our future Peace, Still pour the Bleffings forth, and give thy great Increase,
All the Stock that Fate ordains To fupply fucceeding Reigns, Whether Glory fhall Inspire Gentler Arts or Martial Fire, Still the Fair Descent shall be Dear to Albion all, like Thee,
Patrons of righteous Rule, and Foes to Tyranny.
Ye golden Lights who shine on high, Ye potent Planets who afcend the Sky, On the op'ning Year difpence All your kindeft Influence; Heav'nly Pow's be all prepar'd For our CAROLINA's Guard; Short and eafie be the Pains,
Which for a Nation's Weal the Heroine fuftains. Britannia's Argel be thou near
The growing Race is thy peculiar Care, Oh fpread thy Sacred Wing above the Royal Fair. GEORGE by Thee was wafted o’er, To the long expecting Shore: None prefuming to withstand Thy Celeftial armed Hand,
While his Sacred Head to fhade,
The blended Crois on high Thy filver Shield difplay'
But oh! what other Form Divine Propitious near the Hero feems to faine! Peace of Mind, and Joy Serene, In her facred Eyes are feen, Honour binds her Miter'd Brow, Faith and Truth befide her go, With Zeal and pure Devotion bending low
A thousand Storms around her Threat, A thoufand Billows roar beneath her Feet, While, fix'd-upon a Rock, he keeps her Stable Scar
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