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Preserve, urn! his filent dust,
"Who faithful did obey
"Princes like Anna good and just,
"Yet fcorn'd his freedom to betray;
And, hated by all tyrants, chofe
"The glory to have fuch his foes."

AUGUST A.

RECITATIVE.

Genius of Britain! give thy forrows o'er..
A grateful tribute thou haft paid
To thy Devonia's noble fhade;
Now, vainly weep the dead no more!
For fee-the duke and patriot still furvives,
And in his Great Succeffor lives.

BRITANNI A.

RECITATIVE,

I own the new arising light,

I fee paternal grandeur fhine,

Defcending, through th' illustrious line,

In the fame royal favours bright.

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Laft DUETTO, with all the inftruments. BRIT. Gently finooth thy flight, O time! AUG. Smoothly wing thy flight, O time! BOTH. And as thou flying growest old, Still this happy race behold

In Britannia's court fublime.

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BRIT. Lead along their finiling hours;
AUG. Long produce their fmiling hours;
BOTH. Bleft by all aufpicious powers.
BRIT. Gently smooth thy flight, O time!
AUG. Smoothly wing thy flight, O time!
BOTH. And as thou flying groweft old,

Still this happy race behold

In Britannia's court fublime.

E P I L

OGUE

Spoken by Mr. MILLS,

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At the Queen's Theatre, on his Benefit-Night, February 16, 1709; a little before the Duke of Marlborough's going for Holland.

WHETHER our ftage all others does excell

In ftrength of wit, we'll not prefume to tell:
But this, with noble, confcious pride, we'll say,
No Theatre fuch glories can difplay;

Such worth conspicuous, beauty so divine,
As in one British audience mingled shine.
Who can, without amazement, turn his fight,
And mark the awful circle here to-night?
Warriors, with ever-living laurels, brought
From empires fav'd, from battles bravely fought, 10
Here fit; whofe matchless story shall adorn
Scenes yet unwrit, and charm e'en ages yet unborn.
Yet who would not expect such martial fire,
That fees what eyes thofe gallant deeds inspire >

Valour and Beauty ftill were Britain's claim,
Both are her great prerogatives of Fame;

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By both the Mules live, from both they catch their flame.

Then as by you, in folid glory bright,

Our envy'd ifle through Europe fpreads her light,
And rifing honours every year fuftain,

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And mark the golden track of Anne's diftinguish'd

reign;

So, by your prefence here, we'll strive to raise
To nobler heights our action and our plays;
And Poets from your favours fhall derive
That immortality they boat to give.

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WRITTEN IN A WINDOW

A T

GREENHI THE.

GREAT pr fident of light, and eye of day,

As through this glafs you caft your vifual ray, And view with nuptial joys two brothers bleft, And fee us celebrate the genial feast,

Confefs that, in your progrefs round the sphere, You've found the happielt youths and brighteft beau

ties here.

M

THE

THE

TOASTERS.

WHILE circling healths inspire your sprightly

wit,

And on each glass some beauty's praise is writ,
You afk, my friends, how can my filent Muse
To Montague's foft name a verse refuse?
Bright though the be, of race victorious sprung,
By wits ador'd, and by court- poets fung,
Unmov'd I hear her person call'd divine,
I fee her features uninspiring fhine;
A fofter fair my foul to transport warms,
And, the once nam'd, no other nymph has charms.

TOFTS AND MARGARETTA.

M

USIC has learn'd the difcords of the state, And concerts jar with whig and tory hate. Here Somerfet and Devonshire attend

The British Tofts, and every note commend,
To native merit juft, and pleas'd to fee
We've Roman arts, from Roman bondage free,
There fam'd L'Epine does equal skill employ,
While listening peers crowd to th' ecstatic joy:
Bedford, to hear her fong, his dice forfakes,
And Nottingham is raptur'd when she shakes:

Lull'd statesmen melt away their drowsy cares
Of England's fafety in Italian airs.

Who would not fend each year blank paffes o'er,
Rather than keep fuch strangers from our shore?"

THE WANDERING BEAUTY.

I.

THE Graces and the wandering Loves
Are fled to diftant plains,

To chace the fawns, or deep in groves
To wound admiring fwains.
With their bright mistress there they stray,
Who turns her careless eyes

From daily triumphs; yet, each day,
Beholds new triumphs in her way,
And conquers while she flies.

II.

But fee! implor'd, by moving prayers,
To change the lover's pain,'
Venus her harness'd doves prepares,
And brings the fair again.

Proud mortals, who this maid pursue,

Think you, fhe'll e'er refign?

Ceafe, fools, your wishes to renew,

Till she grows flesh and blood like you,
Or you, like her, divine!

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