Classic Poem

To thee, within whose Heaven-illumin'd Breast,
Resides each Virtue, which adorns the Blest;
'Tis bold Presumption to attune my Lays,
Seraphic Notes shou'd hymn sublimer Praise;
Angels enthroned, in Bliss with Rapture view
Their own divine Perfections live in You:
Say, while you wander, thro' the rural Shade
By Saphire Fount, or flower-enamell'd Mead,
By Wisdom nurs'd, by Contemplation fed,
By both, to every Art and Science led;
While sacred Honour, that immortal Guest
Lives in each Action of thy Life confest;
Wilt Thou, propitious, while I wake the String,
Attentive listen to the Strains I sing;
No venal Lay I offer to impart,
Accept the Rapture of a grateful Heart.
Come, Inspiration, from my Hermit-Seat,
O, give me flowing Numbers sweetly great!
Free as his Bounties, beauteous as his Frame,
And pure and bright, as his unspotted Fame;
For Nature, prodigal to King, has given
All Gifts, admir'd on Earth, and dear to Heaven;
Then to Hibernia , lent this sacred Store,
Too blest Hibernia , can'st thou wish for more:
Philosophers can, from the Noon-tide Sun,
Extract one solar Ray, tho' finely spun;
Then, in that Ray, the various Colours shew,
With which God paints the Rain-foretelling Bow;
May I, like them, presume, with happy Art,
To trace, distinct, the Virtues of thy Heart,
Or turn, astonish'd, from the dazzling Light, }
And own it too intolerably bright, }
When every Beam does with full Force unite. }
Here did I pause, when, lo! the Heaven-born Muse,
Who, if aright invok'd, will ne'er refuse
Her Aid, appear'd, and said, thy noble Choice
May better than the Muse inspire thy Voice:
To me eternal Wisdom gave the Care
Of King, no meaner Power could interfere;
Pleas'd with the Task, I took the lovely Child,
Blooming as Spring, with Looks serenely mild;
Hence flows beneficent his boundless Mind,
The Joy, the Love, the Friend of Humankind;
Modesty, Learning, Genius, Wit, and Taste,
By female Sweetness, manly Virtue grac'd;
Hence take their Source, oh Fav'rite of the Skies!
To which, tho' late, triumphant shalt thou rise;
There mix with Souls, like Thine, divinely pure,
And taste the Rapture fitted to endure:
She ceased; Thanks heavenly Visitant, I said,
To Thee my Gratitude be ever paid;
For what, sufficient, may I render Thee,
Who rais'd a PATRON that protected me;
Who view'd my Anguish with a pitying Eye,
When even a Son, and Brother past it by.
All-righteous Heaven, attend my ardent Pray'r,
Make him thy constant, thy peculiar Care,
Whose Mercy, like the Dews that bless the Ground,
Silently falls, refreshing all around;
While, with such winning Grace, his Bounties flow,
They double all the Blessings they bestow;
Touched with a painful Joy, the lab'ring Heart
Struggles its mighty Transport to impart;
Meanings crowd thick, the Tongue its Aid denies,
And springing Tears the Loss of Speech supplies.
The P — rs of Ireland long have been a Jest,
Their own, and ev'ry other Climate's Pest;
But KING shall grace the Coronet he wears,
And make it vie with Britain's noblest Stars;
And when, in time, to grace his nuptial Bed,
Some chaste, illustrious Charmer he shall wed:
May Love, and Joy, and Truth, the Pomp attend,
And deathless Honour to his Race descend.