Ah-I could pity thee exil'd From this secure retreat I would not lose it to be styl'd But thou canst taste no calm delight; Thy magnanimity in fight, Thy prowess-therefore go. I care not whether east or north, The angry muse thus sings thee forth, And claps the gate behind thee. 20 ANNUS MEMORABILIS, 1789. WRITTEN IN COMMEMORATION OF HIS MAJESTY'S HAPPY RECOVERY. I RANSACK'D, for a theme of song, Through tomes of fable and of dream, I sought an eligible theme, But none I found, or found them shar'd To modern times, with Truth to guide Urg'd loud a claim to be rehears'd, 10 Deeds of unperishing renown, Our fathers' triumphs, and our own. But rests on none, till that be found, Till, settling on the current year, I found the far-sought treasure near. A theme for poetry divine, A theme t'ennoble even mine, In memorable eighty nine. The spring of eighty nine shall be And thankful at my frugal board; 20 30 For then the clouds of eighty eight, Her sov'reign's tutelary care, One breath of Heav'n, that cried-Restore! Chas'd, never to assemble more; And far the richest crown on Earth, If valued by it's wearer's worth, The symbol of a righteous reign, Sat fast on George's brows again. Then peace Our Queen's long agitated breast, Such joy and peace as can be known By suff'rers like herself alone. Who losing, or supposing lost The good on Earth they valu'd most, All hope of happiness below, Then suddenly regain the prize, And flash thanksgivings to the skies! 41 50 O Queen of Albion, queen of Isles! Since all thy tears were chang'd to smiles, Transports not chargeable with art Illume the land's remotest part, And strangers to the air of courts, Of grandeur that ensures respect; But she is something more than Queen, Who is belov❜d where never seen. 60 71 |