120
Miscellaneous Poems.
And with a § hundred tuneful Tongues return.
‘Thy grateful Sorrow to each Prince’s Urn.
Do thou with proper Notes the Youth inspire;
Breath Virg i p’s Trumpet, touch the Horacian Lyre.So may thy Walls to ancient Splendor rife,
And thy Athenian Turrets mate the Skies !
And thou, whose lib’ral Hand my Fortunes rais’d,
O Queen ! for ever lov’d, for ever prais'd ;
Receive the Tribute which my Numbers bring,
While the Muse strikes the Elegiac String :
While Life was thine, how much to thee I owe,
How plenteous did thy streams of Blessing stow?
■O ! how I grieve, for all thy Bounty gave,
To bring this mournful Off’ring to thy Grave,
No Time Ihtill ever from my Mind defaceThy Looks, thy Glories, and diviner Grace.
But most thy ancient Truth, thy pious Soul,
With constant Glowings in thy Bosom roll:
The dear Remembrance ever is imprest,
What Love of true Religion warm’d thy Breast!jj Pleas’d I revolve, as often as I broughtThe Suppliant’s Prayer, and for the Wretched sought:How kind you heard, how plenteous pour’d your StoreAnd tho’ I ask’d for much, you granted more.
Thus at your Sight Afflictions grew more mild,
And Fortune lost her Anger as you fmil’d.
O had but envious Death made some Delay,
And not so hasty snatch’d the Royal Prey :
Then (may her Promises to me be Ihown)
Thy Muses, Oxford, had her Blessings known.
What Domes, O sacred Mother, hadst thou seen,
The pious Gift of a religious Queen 1How had another Area rais’d its Head,
And scornful o’er its ancient Ruins spread!
What Walls had rose! what lofty Turrets crown'd,Theme for thy Sons in future Days to sound. But
§ The Number of Students.
!j He icas Lord Almoner to her Majefly,