100
To His Sacred MAJESTY,
Thus (Royal Sir,) to see you landed here
Was cause enough of Triumph for a year:
Nor would your Care those glorious Joys repeat,
Till they at once might be secure and great:
Till your kind Beams by their continu'd stay
Had warm'd the Ground, and call'd the Damps away.
Such Vapours, while your pow'rful Influence dries,
Then soonest vanish when they highest rise.
Had greater haste these sacred Rights prepar'd,
Some guilty Months had in your Triumphs shar'd:
But this untainted Year is all your own,
Your Glory's may without our Crimes be shewn.
We had not yet exhausted all our Store,
When you refresh'd our Joys by adding more:
As Heav'n, of old, dispens'd Celestial Dew,
You give us Manna and still give us new.
Now our sad Ruins are remov'd from sight,
The Season too comes fraught with new delight;
Time seems not now beneath his years to stoop,
Nor doe his Wings with sickly Feathers droop:
Soft western winds waft o're the gaudy Spring,
And open'd Scenes of Flow'rs and Blossoms bring
Was cause enough of Triumph for a year:
Nor would your Care those glorious Joys repeat,
Till they at once might be secure and great:
Till your kind Beams by their continu'd stay
Had warm'd the Ground, and call'd the Damps away.
Such Vapours, while your pow'rful Influence dries,
Then soonest vanish when they highest rise.
Had greater haste these sacred Rights prepar'd,
Some guilty Months had in your Triumphs shar'd:
But this untainted Year is all your own,
Your Glory's may without our Crimes be shewn.
We had not yet exhausted all our Store,
When you refresh'd our Joys by adding more:
As Heav'n, of old, dispens'd Celestial Dew,
You give us Manna and still give us new.
Now our sad Ruins are remov'd from sight,
The Season too comes fraught with new delight;
Time seems not now beneath his years to stoop,
Nor doe his Wings with sickly Feathers droop:
Soft western winds waft o're the gaudy Spring,
And open'd Scenes of Flow'rs and Blossoms bring
To
