The Prince her husband's brows t'adorn, Had planted there a golden horn, And plac'd his lordship in the palace; Lxit. Who brav'd her threats, her strength defied; LXIII. Her armies, fam'd for valor's meed, She saw a weak commander lead, Who ne'er achiev'd one warlike deed, . Or gave his country's foes a trimming; A swaggering, proud, unwieldy lubber, Well known for cowardice, and blubber, And only fit to play a rubber With simp’ring chiefs, or bilk the women. LXIV. Of men, who held the highest stations; LXV. Thrice happy BRITAIN ! favor'd isle, i Where justice, peace, and plenty smile, Thy praise demands my votive song; Art thou, like Gotham, fall’n, accurst, Plagu'd by a monarch deem'd the worst?-Ah no! thy Prince by virtue nurs’d, Abhors the mė an, and vicious throng. LXVI. Sipping their coffee, wine, and sherbet ; .' E LXVII. There's Headfort, Nature's choice production, An enemy to base seduction, The pink of dukes, of knights, and peers.; No wretch is he of pimping fame, No hoary letcher, lost to shame, Whose passions age can never tame, But one whose virtues grace his years, LXVIII. As innocent, as new-born babies, LXIX, Whose fame smells sweetly, like geranium ; The labors of my pericraneum. LXX. . But yet again, in merry strain, I'll prove Britannia's loyal herald; Ye Muses fire me—ye Gods inspire me, With stanzas worthy of FITZGERALD! LXXI. Heav'n bless the Regent and his Mother, Each SISTER, MINISTER, and BROTHER, His DAUGHTER more than any other; And grant her beauty, health, prosperity And THOU MY COUNTRY! land divine Oh! ne'er may Gotham's fate be thine, Long may thy PRINCE in VIRTUE shine And truly great, be proud to merit thee, The end. G. Hazard, Printer, Beech-Street, London. |