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As when the Theban hymns divine
The varying measures, ever new,
While through the glorious maze
The poet leads his heroes to renown,
And weaves in verse a never-fading crown.
To Mifs MARGARET PULTENEY, Daughter of
DANIEL PULTENEY, Efq; in the Nursery.
IMPLY damfel, fweetly smiling,
APRIL 27, 1727.
All careffing, none beguiling,
Bud of beauty, fairly blowing,
To Mifs CHARLOTTE PULTENEY,
in her Mother's Arms.
MAY 1, 1724,
IMELY bloffom, infant fair,
This thy prefent happy lot,
And thou shalt in thy daughter fee,
TO THE RIGHT HONOURABLE
ROBERT WALPOLE, ESQUIRE.
JUNE 15, 1724.
OTARY to publick zeal,
Have you leifure for a song,
Tell me, Walpole, have you
Nothing lofty will I fing,
Fairy Virgin, British Mufe,
To him, in a cheerless hour;
When the fwain, by Druids taught,
Soon divin'd his irksome thought,
"What, though titles thou decline? "Still the more thy virtues shine.
"Envy, with her serpent eye,
"Marks each praise that foars on high.
"Urgeth on, through clouds, his way:
Quick, the blissful scene prepare,
Sooth the patriot's heavy care: "Visions, cheering to the fight, "Give him earnest of delight.
"Wife difpofer of affairs, "View the end of all thy cares! "Forward caft thy ravish'd eyes,
See the gladdening harvest rise.: "Lo, the people reap thy pain! "Thine the labor, theirs the gain. "Yonder turn, awile, they view, "Turn thee to yon spreading yew, Once the gloomy tree of fate, "Once the plighted virgin's hate: “Now, no longer, does it grow, "Parent of the warring bow:
See, beneath the guiltless shade, "Peasants fhape the plow and spade, "Rescued, ever, from the fear "Of the whistling shaft and spear. "Lo, where plenty comes, with peace! "Hear the breath of murmur cease: "See, at last, unclouded days; "Hear, at laft, unenvied praise.
"Nothing fhall thy foul moleft; "Labour is the price of reft.
"Mortal, deftin'd to excel, 4 Blefs the toil of doing well!”