Classic Poem

A POEM

ON HER MAJESTY' BIRTH-DAY, 1732-3 .

" Great Princess! 'tis decreed — once ev'ry year
" I march, uncall'd, your Laurerat Volunteer, "
So sung the Muse, nor sung the Muse in vain;
My queen accepts, the year renews the strain.
Ere first your influence shone with heav'nly aid
Each thought was terror, for each view was shade;
Fortune to life each flow'ry path deny'd;
No science learn'd to bloom, no lay to glide.
Instead of hallow'd hill or vocal vale,
Or stream sweet-echoing to the tuneful tale,
Damp dens confin'd, or barren deserts spread,
With spectres haunted and the Muses fled;
Ruins in pensive emblem seem to rise,
And all was dark or wild to Fancy's eyes,
But, hark! a gladd'ning voice all nature cheers!
Disperse ye glooms a day of joy appears.
Hail, happy Day! — 'Twas on thy glorious morn
The first, the fairest, of her sex was born!
How swift the change! cold wintry sorrows fly;
Where'er she looks delight surrounds the eye!
Mild shines the sun, the woodlands warble round,
The vales sweet echo, sweet the rocks resound!
In cordial air soft fragrance floats along;
Each scene is verdure, and each voice is song!
Shoot from yon orb divine, ye quick'ning Rays!
Boundless, like her benevolence, ye blaze!
Soft emblems of her bounty, fall, ye Show'rs!
And sweet ascend, and fair unfold, ye Flow'rs!
Ye Roses, Lilies! you we earliest claim,
In whiteness and in fragrance match her fame!
'Tis yours to fade; to fame like her's is due
Undying sweets, and bloom for ever new,
Ye Blossoms! that one vary'd landscape rise,
And send your scentful tribute to the skies,
Diffusive like yon royal branches smile,
Grace the young year, and glad the grateful isle!
Attend, ye Muses! mark the feather'd quires;
Those the spring wakes, as you the queen inspires,
O! let her praise for ever swell your song,
Sweet let your sacred streams the notes prolong,
Clear, and more clear, thro' all my lays refine,
And there let heav'n and her reflected shine!
As when chill blights from vernal suns retire,
Cheerful the vegetative world aspire,
Put forth unfolding blooms, and, waving, try
Th' enliv'ning influence of a milder sky;
So gives her birth (like yon approaching spring)
The land to flourish and the Muse to sing.
'Twas thus Zenobia, on Palmyra's throne,
In learning, beauty, and in virtue shone;
Beneath her rose Longinus! in thy name,
The poet's, critic's, and the patriot's fame.
Is there (so high be you great princess! prais'd)
A woe unpity'd, or a worth unrais'd?
Art learns to soar by your sweet influence taught,
In life well cherish'd, nor in death forgot:
In death as life the learn'd your goodness tell,
Witness the sacred busts of Richmond's cell;
Sages who in unfading light will shine,
Who grasp'd at science, like your own, divine.
The Muse, who hails with song this glorious morn,
Now looks thro' days, thro' months, thro' years unborn:
All white they rise, and in their course express'd,
A king by kings rever'd, by subjects bless'd!
A queen, where er true greatness spreads in fame,
Where learning tow'rs beyond her sex's aim;
Where pure religion no extreme can touch,
Of faith too little, or of zeal too much;
Where these behold, as on this bless'd of morns,
What love protects them, and what worth adorns;
Where'er diffusive Goodness smiles, a queeu
Still prais'd with rapture, as with wonder seen!
See nations round of ev'ry wish possest!
Life in each eye, and joy in ev'ry breast!
Shall I, on what I lightly touch, explain?
Shall I (vain thought) attempt the finish'd strain?
No! — let the poet stop unequal lays,
And to the just historian yield your praise.