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EMMA.

O day the fairest sure that ever rose!
Period and end of anxious Emma's woes!
Sire of her joy, and source of her delight;
O! wing'd with pleasure take thy happy flight,
And give each future morn a tincture of thy white.
Yet tell thy votary, potent queen of love,
Henry, my Henry, will he never rove?

Will he be ever kind, and just, and good?
And is there then no mistress in the wood?

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None, none there is; the thought was rash and

vain;

A falfe idea, and a fancy'd pain.

686

Doubt fhall for ever quit my ftrengthen❜d heart, And anxious jealoufie's corroding smart;

No other inmate fhall inhabit there,

But foft Belief, young Joy, and pleasing Care.

Hence let the tides of plenty ebb and flow, And Fortune's various gale unheeded blow. If at my feet the fuppliant goddess stands, And sheds her treasure with unweary'd hands; Her present favor cautious I'll embrace, 695 And not unthankful use the proffer'd grace; If the reclaims the temporary boon, And tries her pinions, flutt'ring to be gone; Secure of mind I'll obviate her intent, And unconcern'd return the goods she lent.

700

Nor happiness can I, nor mifery feel,
From any turn of her fantastic wheel:
Friendship's great laws, and love's fuperior pow'rs,
Must mark the colour of my future hours.
From the events which thy commands create
I must my bleffings or my forrows date;
And Henry's will must dictate Emma's fate.

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Yet while with clofe delight and inward pride (Which from the world my careful foul fhall hide) I fee thee, lord and end of my defire,

Exalted high as virtue can require ;

710

With power invested, and with pleasure chear'd; Sought by the good, by the oppreffor fear'd; Loaded and bleft with all the affluent store,

Which human vows at fmoaking shrines implore; Grateful and humble grant me to employ

My life, fubfervient only to thy joy;

And at my death to blefs thy kindness shown

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To her, who of mankind could love but thee alone.

WHILE thus the conftant pair alternate faid,
Joyful above them and around them play'd 721
Angels and fportive Loves, a numerous crowd;
Smiling they clapt their wings, and low they bow'd:
They tumbled all their little quivers o'er,
To chufe propitious fhafts; a precious store: 725
That, when their god fhould take his future darts,
To ftrike (however rarely) conftant hearts,

His happy skill might proper arms imploy,
All tipt with pleasure, and all wing'd with joy :
And those, they vow'd, whofe lives fhould imitate
These lovers conftancy, should share their fate.

The queen of beauty ftopt her bridled doves;
Approv'd the little labour of the Loves ;
Was proud and pleas'd the mutual vow to hear;
And to the triumph call'd the god of war:
Soon as the calls, the god is always near.

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Now, Mars, she said, let Fame exalt her voice;
Nor let thy conquefts only be her choice:
But when the fings great Edward from the field
Return'd, the hoftile spear and captive shield
In Concord's temple hung, and Gallia taught to
yield;

And when, as prudent Saturn fhall compleat
The years defign'd to perfect Britain's ftate,
The swift-wing'd pow'r fhall take her trump again,
To fing her fav'rite Anna's wond'rous reign;

To recollect unweary'd Marlbro's toils,

Old Rufus' hall unequal to his fpoils;

The British foldier from his high command

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Glorious, and Gaul thrice vanquish'd by his hand :

Let her at least perform what I defire;

750

With fecond breath the vocal brass inspire,
And tell the nations, in no vulgar strain,
What wars I manage, and what wreaths I gain.

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And, when thy tumults and thy fights are past; And when thy laurels at my feet are cast; Faithful may'st thou, like British Henry, prove: And, Emma-like, let me return thy love.

Renown'd for truth, let all thy fons appear; And constant Beauty shall reward their care.

Mars fmil'd, and bow'd: the Cyprian deity Turn'd to the glorious ruler of the sky; 760 And thou, she smiling faid, great god of days And verfe, behold my deed, and fing my praise; As on the British earth, my fav'rite isle,

Thy gentle rays and kindest influence fmile, 765
Through all her laughing fields and verdant groves,
Proclaim with joy those memorable loves:
annual course let one great day
To celebrated sports and floral play

From

every

Be fet afide; and, in the foftest lays

Of thy poetic fons, be folemn praise,
And everlasting marks of honour paid

To the true Lover, and the Nut-brown Maid.

770

TO A YOUNG GENTLEMAN IN LOVE.

A TALE.

BY THE SAME.

FROM public noise, and factious strife,

From all the bufy ills of life,

Take me, my Celia, to thy breaft;

And lull my wearied foul to reft.

For ever, in this humble cell,

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one, dwell;

None enter elfe, but Love-and he
Shall bar the door, and keep the key.

10

To painted roofs, and fhining fpires, (Uneafie feats of high defires) Let the unthinking many croud, That dare be covetous and proud: In golden bondage let them wait, And barter happiness for state.

But oh! my Celia, when thy fwain 15 Defires to fee a court again,

May heav'n around his deftin'd head

The choiceft of its curfes fhed!

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