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On the Earl of PETERBOROUGH's happy Nego.

tiation of the Marriage between his Royal Highness and the Princess MARY D’Este of Modena.


IS Juno barren, in unfruitful joys

Our British Jove his nuptial hours employs.
So fate ordains, that all our hopes may be,
And all our safety, gallant York, in thee.

By the same with aspiring queens are led,
Each languishing to mount his royal bed ;
His youth, his wisdom, and his carly fame,
Create in every breast a rival flame :
Remotest kings fit trembling on their thrones,
As if no distance could secure their crowns;
Fearing his valour, wisely they contend
To bribe with beauty fo renown'd a friend :
Beauty the price, there need no other arts,
Love is the sureft bait for heroes hearts :


Nor can the fair conceal as high concern
To see the prince, for whom, unseen, they burn.

Brave York, attending to the general voice, At length resolves to make the with’d-for choice; To roble Peterborough, wise and just, Of his great heart he gives the sacred trust : “ Thy eyes, said he, shall well direct that heart, “ Where thou, my best belov’d, hast such a part ; “ In council oft', and' oft'in battle try'd, “ Betwixt thy master, and the world decide.” The chosen Mercury prepares t obey

' This high command. Gently, ye winds, convey, And with auspicious gales his fafety wait, On whom depend Great Britain's hopes and fate. So Jafon, with his Argonauts, from Greece To Calchos fail'd, to fetch the golden fleece.

As when the goddesses came down of old On Ida's hill, fo

many ages told, With gifts their young Dardanian judge they try'd, And each bad high to win him to her side; So tempt they him, and emulously vie To bribe a voice that empires would not buy : With balls and banquets his pleas’d sense they bait, And queens and kings upon his pleasures wait.

Th'impartial judge furveys, with vast delight, All that the fun surrounds of fair and bright: Then, strictly just, he, with adoring eyes, To radiant Efte gives the famous prize. Of antique stock, her high descent she brings, Born to renew the race of Britain's kings :


Who could deserve, like her, in whom we see
United, all that Paris found in three ?
() equal fair! when both were set above
All other merit, but each other's love.

Welcome, bright princess, to Great Britain's shore,
As Berecynthia to high heaven, who bore
That shining race of goddesses and gods,
Who rul'd the world, and fill'd the bleft abodes :
From thee, my Muse expects as noble themes,
Another Mars and Jove, another James;
Our future hopes all from thy womb arise,
Our present joy and safety from your eyes ;
Those charming eyes thar fhine, to reconcile,
To harmony and peace, our stubborn Isle :
On brazen Memnon, Phæbus cafts-a ray,
And the tough metal so salutes the day.

The British dame, fam’d for resistless grace,
Contends not now, but for the second place ;
Our love suspended, we neglect the fair
For whom we burn'd, to gaze adoring here :-
So sang the Syrens, with enchanting sound,
Enticing all to listen and be drown'd,
Till Orpheus ravish'd in a nobler strain,
They ceas’d to sing, or singing charm’d in vain.

This bleft alliance, Peterborough, may
Th’indebted nation bounteously repay ;
Thy statues, for the Genius of our land,
With palin adorn'd, on every threshold stand.


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