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With the following POEM of



THE bard who first adorn'd our native tongue,

Tun'd to his British lyre this ancient song:

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 sung better, and of arms as well.

Vouchsafe, illustrious Ormond, to behold
What power the charms of beauty had of old;
Nor wonder if such deeds of arms were done,
Inspir'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 faireft nymph before his eyes he set;
And then the faireft 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

Like her, of equal kindred to the throne,
You keep her conquests, and extend your own:
As when the stars in their etherial race,

At length have rollid around the liquid space,
At certain periods they resume their place,
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From the same point of heaven their course advance,
And move in measures of their former dance;
Thus, after length of ages, the returns,
Restor’d in you, and the same place adorns;
Or you perform her office in the sphere,
Born of her blood, and make a new platonic year.
O true Plantagenet, Orace divine,
(For beauty still 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 Theseus from his side had sent
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 sure presage your future sway declar'd:
When westward, like the sun, you took

your way,
And from benighted Britain bore the day,
Blue Triton gave the signal from the shore,
The ready Nereids heard, and swam before
To smooth the seas ; a soft 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 sand,
And steer'd the sacred vefsel safe to land.
The land, if not restrain’d, had met your way,
Projected out a neck, and jutted to the sea.
Hibernia, proftrate at your feet, ador'd
In you, the pledge of her expected lord ;
Due to her ille; a venerable name;
His father and his grandfire known to fame;
Aw'd by that house, accustom'd to command,

2 The sturdy Kerns in due subjection stand; Nor bear the reins in any foreign hand.




At your approach, they crouded to the port;
And scarcely landed, you create a court:
As Ormond's harbinger, to you they run;
For Venus is the promise of the sun,
The waste of civil wars, their towns destroy'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, massacres, 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, secure of rest,
Op'd ev'ry window to receive the guest,
And the fair bearer of the message bless’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 kies,
To fign inviolable peace restor'd;
The saints with solemn shouts proclaim'd the new accord.
When at your second coming you appear,
(For I foretel that millenary year)
The sharpen'd share shall vex the soil no more,
But 'earth unbidden shall produce her store ;
The land shall laugh, the circling ocean smile,
And heav'n's indulgence bless the holy isle.
Heav'n from all ages has reserv'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 cast
Betwixt your future glories, and your past,
This pause of pow'r, 'tis Ireland's hour to mourn ;
While England celebrates your

safe return, which


seem the seasons to command, And bring our summers back to their forsaken land.


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The vanquilh'd ille our leisure must attend,
Till the fair blessing we vouchsafe to send ;
Nor can we spare you long, thoʻoften we may lend,
The dove was twice employ'd abroad, before
The world was dry’d, and the return'd no more.

Nor dare we trust so soft a messenger,
New from her fickness, to that northern air;
Reft here


while lustre to setore,
That they may fee you, as you shone before ;
For yet, th' eclipfe not wholly past, you wade
Thro' some remains, and dimness of a shade.

A subject in his prince may claim a right,
Nor suffer him with strength 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 those malignant atoms forc'd their way,
What in their faultless frame they found to make their

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Where ev'ry element was weigh’d so well,
That heav'n alone, who mix'd the mass, cou'd tell
Which of the four ingredients could rebel ;
And where, imprison'd in so sweet a cage,
A foul might well be pleas'd to pass an age.

the fine materials made it weak :
Porcelain, by being pure, is apt to break :
Ev'n to your breast the sickness durst aspire;
And, forc'd from that fair temple to retire,
Profanely set the holy place on fire.
In vain your lord like young Vespasian mourn’d,
When the fierce flames the sanctuary burn'd:
And I prepar’d to pay in verses rude
A moft detested 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 inspir'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 such over-coft beftow'd,
As scarce it could afford to flesh and blood,
So lik'd the frame, he would not work anew,
To save the charges of another you.
Or by his middle science did he fteer,
And saw some great contingent good appear
Well worth a miracle to keep you here :
And for that end, preserv'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.

Blest be the pow'r which has at once restord
The hopes of lost succession to your lord,
Joy to the first and laft of each degree,
Virtue to courts, and, what I long'd to see,

you the Graces, and the Muse to me.
O daughter of the rose, whose cheeks unite
The diff'ring titles of the red and white;
Who heav'n's alternate beauty well display,
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 absent, he
Employs the care of chafte Penelope.
For him you waste in tears your widow'd hours,
For him your curious needle paints the flowers ;
Such works of old Imperial dames were taught;
Such, for Ascanius, fair Eliza wrought,
The soft recesses of your hours improve
The three fair pledges of your happy love:
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