An Ode, or Lyrical Elegy, or Funeral ODE, Written in Sorrow; on the Death of the late most Excellent and much Lamented Prince George of Denmark.
SIlvander, Royal by his birth,
Divinely good, as well as great;
'Mongst all the Kingdoms of the Earth,
Chose happy Albion, for his seat:
The Queen of Hearts, and Queen of Isles,
Possest him of their Fertile store;
The first endear'd him with her smiles,
The last gave Ease, and wealthy Ore:
Fame, he had purchas'd long before,
Say Cherubins that sit on high,
Ye radiant Inmates of the Sky,
Did Heavn e're give a Mortal more.
Hark, the Celestials answer no,
None, more the powers above could bless;
Nor 'mongst the human Race below,
E'er stood desart in higher place:
'Twould pose the Muses to extend,
On such extream of worth their praise;
The noblest Master, truest Friend,
The tend'rest Husband, Ancient days
Replete, with Conjugal Essays,
Can scarce so just a pattern shew,
Much less, Licentious rovers now,
To vertuous Love, such Altars raise.
The Gracious Flora, pain'd with fear,
Who knew all days had Mortal date;
That he might stay for ever here,
Made league with every Power, but Fate,
