Classic Poem

Sweet lonely Grott! nor art thou less
 Than those antique Retreats admir'd,
Where or the Sylvan Goddesses,
 Or where Diana 's Self retir'd;

In Thee no glorious Roofs are shown,
 Nor the proud Column's graceful Height;
But hoary Moss, and rustic Stone,
 Commend thy Structure to the Sight;

In this plain Neatness lovelier far,
 Than all the pompous Piles of State,
Since here nor enters Dread, nor Care,
 Nor busy Strife, nor factious Hate.

Here CAROLINE to learned Ease,
 And studious Solitude resign'd,
The Depths of Truth and Wisdom sees,
 And stores her rich capacious Mind.

Not that ev'n here she leaves unsought
 Whate'er the Publick Weal may claim;
But plans for ever in her Thought
  Britannia 's Pow'r, and Wealth, and Fame.

Her boundless Goodness She conveys
 To Lands remote, and foreign Climes;
And through the peaceful World essays
 To bring the old Saturnian Times.

And oft, nor ever giv'n in vain,
 Her Aid the Royal Counsels own;
Thus She transmits her Consort's Reign,
 By Her improv'd in Glory down;

Nor, though our KING protracts his Stay,
 The happy Briton ought complains,
Since still with delegated Sway
 Our ROYAL GUARDIAN holds the Reins.