Classic Poem

Light of the World, with purest Beams adorn
The Front of Heav'n, and gild the sacred Morn!
Come from thy Chamber, in the East,
In richest Gold, and Purple drest,
Bright, as the Royal Fair, who on this Day was born.
Say, in all thy glorious Round,
Hast thou so much Beauty found?
Tho' Nature spreads, for Thee, her Charms,
Her fairest Store of finish'd Forms,
The radiant Gem, the flow'ry Race,
Hast thou beheld such perfect Grace,
As great Augusta's Looks display?
Blooming as rosy Spring, and fair as early Day?

AIR

Glad Zephyrs on your downy Pinions bear
The joyful Tidings thro' the balmy Air,
That Heav'n, indulgent to Britannia's Isle,
Created for her lov'd, her God-like Heir
This matchless Virgin, this illustrious Fair,
In whom the Virtues, and the Graces smile.
What Joy, oh Royal Youth! was thine?
When you beheld the Nymph Divine!
Like Venus , rising from the Sea,
While round officious Cupids play;
Neptune confess'd his Breast before
So rich a Treasure never bore;
He hushed the noisy Winds to sleep,
And smooth'd the Surface of the Deep.
Hymen, quick thy Taper light,
Join, whom Love before had join'd,

And in blissful Bonds unite
Heart to Heart, and Mind to Mind,
The noblest Pair, that, ever yet
In sweet connubial Transports met!

AIR

As when the Sun awakes the Year,
And bids the Blooms their Sweets disclose,
In vernal Lustre, rob'd appear
The Lilly and the new-blown Rose:
So, from this pure, this hallow'd Flame,
Behold the num'rous Offspring rise,
Of future Bards, the blissful Theme,
And Rapture of a Nation's Eyes.

Let Hymns of Praise to Heaven ascend
For this propitious Store,
Oh, still the Royal Race defend!
And Britain asks no more.