This page needs to be proofread.
The Preface.
xxv
Her Chains were Marks of Honour to the Brave,
She made a Prince when e’er she made a Slave.
She made a Prince when e’er she made a Slave.
Again,
By wounding me, she learnt the fatal Art,
And the first Sigh she had, was from my Heart.
And the first Sigh she had, was from my Heart.
My Lord Hallifax's Muse hath been very indulgent to Monosyllables, and no Son of Apollo will dare to dispute his Authority in this Matter. Speaking of the Death of King Charles the Second, and his Improvement of Navigation, and Shipping; he says,
To ev'ry Coast, with ready Sails are hurl’d,
Fill us with Wealth, and with our Fame the World.
Fill us with Wealth, and with our Fame the World.
Again,
Us from our Foes, and from out selves did shield.
Again,
As the stout Oak, when round his Trunk the Vine.
Does in soft Wreaths, and amorous Foldings twine.
Does in soft Wreaths, and amorous Foldings twine.
And again,
In Charles, so good a Man and King, we see, A double Image of the Deity. Oh! Had he more refembled it! Oh why Was he not still more like; and cou’d not die?
My Lord Landfdown's Muse, which may claim her Seat in the higheft Posnt of Parnassus, gives us the'e Instances of her Sentiments in our Favour;
So own’d by Heaven, less glorious far was he,
Great God of Verse, than I, thus prais’d by thee.
Great God of Verse, than I, thus prais’d by thee.
Again
