With the following POEM of
HE bard who first adorn'd our native tongue, Tun'd to his British lyre this ancient fong: Which Homer might without a blush rehearse, And leaves a doubtful palm in Virgil's verse: He match'd their beauties, where they most excel; Of love fung better, and of arms as well.
Vouchfafe, illuftrious Ormond, to behold
What power the charms of beauty had of old;
Nor wonder if fuch deeds of arms were done,
Infpir'd by two fair eyes that sparkled like your own.
If Chaucer by the best idea wrought,
And poets can divine each other's thought,
The fairest nymph before his eyes he fet;
And then the fairest was Plantagenet;
Who three contending princes made their prize,
And rul'd the rival nations with her eyes:
Who left immortal trophies of her fame,
And to the noblest order gave the name.
Like her, of equal kindred to the throne,
You keep her conquefts, and extend your own:
As when the ftars in their etherial race,
At length have roll'd around the liquid fpace,
At certain periods they refume their place,
From the fame point of heaven their course advance,
And move in measures of their former dance;
Thus, after length of ages, fhe returns,
Reftor'd in you, and the fame place adorns ;
Or you perform her office in the sphere,
Born of her blood, and make a new platonic year.
O true Plantagenet, O race divine,
(For beauty ftill is fatal to the line,)
Had Chaucer liv'd that angel-face to view,
Sure he had drawn his Emily from you;
Or had you liv'd to judge the doubtful right,
Your noble Palamon had been the knight;
And conqu❜ring Thefeus from his fide had fent
Your gen'rous lord, to guide the Theban government,
Time shall accomplish that; and I shall see
A Palamon in him, in you an Emily.
Already have the fates your path prepar'd,
And fure prefage your future fway declar'd:
When weftward, like the fun, you took your way,
And from benighted Britain bore the day,
Blue Triton gave the fignal from the shore,
The ready Nereids heard, and swam before
To smooth the feas; a foft Etefan gale
But just inspir'd, and gently swell'd the fail ;
Portunus took his turn, whose ample hand
Heav'd up his lighten'd keel, and funk the fand,
And fteer'd the facred veffel fafe to land.
The land, if not reftrain'd, had met your way,
Projected out a neck, and jutted to the fea.
Hibernia, proftrate at your feet, ador'd
In you, the pledge of her expected lord;
Due to her ifle; a venerable name;
His father and his grandfire known to fame;
Aw'd by that house, accuftom'd to command,
The sturdy Kerns in due fubjection stand;
Nor bear the reins in any foreign hand.
At your approach, they crouded to the port;
And fcarcely landed, you create a court:
As Ormond's harbinger, to you they run;
For Venus is the promise of the fun.
The wafte of civil wars, their towns deftroy'd,
Pales unhonor'd, Ceres unemploy'd,
Were all forgot; and one triumphant day
Wip'd all the tears of three campaigns away.
Blood rapines, maffacres, were cheaply bought,
So mighty recompence your beauty brought.
As when the dove returning bore the mark
Of earth restor❜d to the long lab'ring ark,
'The relics of mankind, fecure of reft,
Op'd ev'ry window to receive the guest,
And the fair bearer of the meffage blefs'd;
So, when you came, with loud repeated cries,
The nation took an omen from your eyes,
And God advanc'd his rainbow in the fkies,
To fign inviolable peace reftor'd;
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The faints with folemn fhouts proclaim'd the new accord. When at your fecond coming you appear,
(For I foretel that millenary year)
The sharpen'd share shall vex the foil no more,
But earth unbidden fhall produce her store;
The land fhall laugh, the circling ocean fmile,
And heav'n's indulgence bless the holy ifle.
Heav'n from all ages has referv'd for you
That happy clime, which venom never new;
Or if it had been there, your eyes alone
Have power to chase all poison, but their own.
Now in this interval, which fate has caft
Betwixt your future glories, and your paft,
This pause of pow'r, 'tis Ireland's hour to mourn;
While England celebrates your fafe return,
By which you seem the seasons to command,
And bring our fummers back to their forfaken land.
The vanquish'd ifle our leifure must attend,
Till the fair bleffing we vouchsafe to send;
Nor can we spare you long, tho' often we may lend.
The dove was twice employ'd abroad, before
The world was dry'd, and she return'd no more.
Nor dare we truft so soft a meffenger,
New from her fickness, to that northern air;
Reft here a while your luftre to restore,
That they may fee you, as you shone before ;
For yet, th' eclipfe not wholly paft, you wade
Thro' fome remains, and dimnefs of a fhade.
A fubject in his prince may claim a right, Nor fuffer him with ftrength impair'd to fight; Till force returns, his ardor we restrain, And curb his warlike wish to cross the main, Now past the danger, let the learn'd begin Th' inquiry, where disease could enter in ; How thofe malignant atoms forc'd their way, What in their faultlefs frame they found to make their
Where ev'ry element was weigh'd fo well,
That heav'n alone, who mix'd the mafs, cou'd tell
Which of the four ingredients could rebel ;
And where, imprifon'd in fo fweet a cage,
A foul might well be pleas'd to pass an age.
And yet the fine materials made it weak:
Porcelain, by being pure, is apt to break :
Ev'n to your breaft the fickness durft afpire;
And, forc'd from that fair temple to retire,
Profanely fet the holy place on fire,
In vain your lord like young Vefpafian mourn'd,
When the fierce flames the fanctuary burn'd:
And I prepar'd to pay in verfes rude
A moft detefted act of gratitude :
Ev'n this had been your elegy, which now
Is offer'd for your health, the table of my vow.
Your angel fure our Morley's mind infpir'd,
To find the remedy your ill requir'd;
As once the Macedon, by Jove's decree,
Was taught to dream an herb for Ptolomee:
Or heav'n, which had fuch over-cost bestow'd,
As fcarce it could afford to flesh and blood,
So lik'd the frame, he would not work anew,
To fave the charges of another you.
Or by his middle fcience did he steer,
And faw fome great contingent good appear
Well worth a miracle to keep you here:
And for that end, preferv'd the precious mould,
Which all the future Ormonds was to hold;
And meditated in his better mind
An heir from you, which may redeem the failing kind.
Bleft be the pow'r which has at once restor'd
The hopes of loft fucceffion to your lord,
Joy to the first and last of each degree,
Virtue to courts, and, what I long'd to fee,
Το you the Graces, and the Muse to me.
O daughter of the rofe, whofe cheeks unite
The diff'ring titles of the red and white;
Who heav'n's alternate beauty well difplay,
The blush of morning and the milky way;
Whose face is paradise, but fenc'd from fin:
For God in either eye has plac'd a cherubin.
All is your lord's alone; ev'n abfent, he
Employs the care of chafte Penelope.
For him you wafte in tears your widow'd hours,
For him your curious needle paints the flowers;
Such works of old Imperial dames were taught;
Such, for Afcanius, fair Eliza wrought,
The foft receffes of your hours improve
The three fair pledges of your happy love;
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