86 THE POEMS OF ANNE �And to a mournfull successour made way �Whilst All was uncontested, All combin'd, �How had the streets, how had the Palace rung, �In praise of thy acknowledg'd Worth; �What had our num'rous Writers then brought forth, �What melancholly Dirges had they sung, �What weeping Elegy's prepar'd, �If not from loyal grief, yett to obtain reward. 10 �Thus is that Gift (which Heauen did sure bestow �To elevate the hearts of Men �And lead them to those Blissfull seats agen �Whence all harmonious Sounds and lofty Numbers �flow) Now, Mammon, turn'd thy slave to dig thy Mines below. �2 �But Royal James though none shall pay this Verse Bred in a Land not honour'd with thy Herse, But Royal James who never shalt return To cheer those Hearts which did thy sorrows mourn, Who never shalt the Woes, the Wants, repair 20 �Which for thy sake have been thy Followers share, Though with thy latest Breath such Prospects fled And all who saw thee Dye now wish themselves as dead, Yett shall a free disinterested Muse In chosen Lines perform that Task Which does an abler Writer ask But abler Writers will the Work refuse, And where, alas 'twill but the Feather cost The noblest Subjects for the Pen are lost. �3 �Else how wou'd the Poetick crew, 80 �Those publick Heralds of Immortal Fame Unto the present Times renew ��� �
