Classic Poem

XVII

While thus the Ravisht Nerieds Sung
The Echoes from the crowded shore,
Repeated the glad Musick o're;
And all the Banks with Acclamations rung,
Like well-tun'd Vollies with united Peals:
Which after rattle in the distant Sky,
Long live our Sacred King and Queen ! they cry,
And all the vacant round with joyful murmer fills,
Repeating still the grateful noise
As fast as e're they could recharge the Voice;
The different shoutings of the Throng,
The Female Treble, and the Manly Base,
The dead flat Notes of the declining race,
Tun'd to the sharp ones of the young,
Compleats the noblest Musick of the Day:
And though each bore a different part,
'Twas all one Voice, and one united Heart,
Rejoyc'd, and blest the Monarch all the way.