Ode on the Birth of a great Prince, in 1720.

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1247 (1247)
Copy of an Ode (taken fmfrom
a Copy printed in London, 1749)
Compos’dComposed in the Year M.DCCXX.

On the
Birth
Of A
Great Prince.

Tu modo nascenti —

Casta fave Lucina; Virg:Virgil Eclog:Eclogue 4.

WraptWrapped in one common Wish three Nations1 lay,

Liv’dLived on Desire, &and hop’dhoped th’the auspicious Day;

At last kind Heav’nHeaven hath heard each loyal Pray’rPrayer,

And wtwith a Royal Babe hath bless’dblessed yethe Royal pair.2

Just as yethe Sun had finish’dfinished his Career,

And mounted fresh to gild yethe Latian Year;

When Clementina’s sharper Throes begun

To promise Britain a more glorious Sun,

A radiant Host around th’the Eternal stood,

An Host solicitous for Human Good:

To qmwhom th’the Almighty — Seraphs! guard my Care!

Protect the Infant, &and preserve the Fair!

Th’The adoring Seraphs bow’dbowed —

Then swift as fleeting Thought they wing their Way
Through the vast Ocean of empyreal Day:

Down from th’the immortal Verge of purple Light

They waft on Æther with Angelic Might.

Now in one glorious Point contracted fly

(A radiant Orb!) along the nether Sky.

Then all around yethe Royal Couch they stand,

An Angel-Guard! A bright celestial Band!

Britannia’s
1248 (1248)
Britannia’s lovely Nymphs (a Royal Train!)

Assist their Sov’reignSovereign, but assist in vain.

No mortal Aid, no skill suffic’dsufficed on Earth,

Where Heav’nHeaven alone must guide th’the auspicious Birth.

The Father’s Guardian hastes (a Shining Thron^eg!)

To ease yethe Mother, &and preserve the Son;

Ambrosial Odours spread round the ~~Bed~~ Fair,

And in a Moment brings Britannia’s Heir.

Hail Royal Infant! Hail divinely Great!

Kind Heavn’sHeaven’s best Gift, &and last Reserve of Fate!

See! See! Britannia, qtwhat MajestickMajestic Grace

Dwells on each Infant-Feature of his Face!

Here all yethe Stewart mercifully shines,

And Sobieski fills yethe stronger Lines.

Great Sobieski!3 —

The trembling Muse starts at yethe awefulawful Name,

And only wonders at the mighty Theme!

She thinks she sees yethe crimson Crosses fly,

And swarming Crescents waft along yethe Sky!

She thinks she sees yethe Hero from afar,

In glitt’ringglittering Terrors lead yethe shining War!

Just e’erever Vienna’s Nymphs had fall’nfallen a Prey

To Rage, &and Lust, &and barb’rousbarbarous Cruelty,

Just as Vienna’s Nymphs, in Floods of Tears

At once to Heav’nHeaven prefer’dpreferred yrtheir ardent Pray’rsPrayers ;

Great Sobieski thunder’dthundered on the Plain,

O’erOver Streams of Blood &and mangled Heaps of Slain!

Vienna saw the Hero, as he stood

In Storms of Death &and floating Tides of Blood;

Vienna saw her Liberty restor’drestored,

And owes ytthat Freedom to his conqu’ringconquering Sword.

Immortal Hero! May thy Glories be

Transmitted whole to thy Posterity!
May 1249 (1249)
May those fam’dfamed LawrelsLaurels Sobieski won

Descend all Green to Clementina’s Son!

So shall it be — The Muse prophetickprophetic sees.

Thus Heav’nHeaven hath doom’ddoomed, &and thus kind Fate decrees.

Hail Royal Babe! But see, yethe Martyr smiles

From Heav’nHeaven on ysthis vast Blessings of his Isles!

See, how he Smiles auspicious on the Boy,

And Albion lies dissolv’ddissolved in cloudy Joy!

Hail Royal Charles! kind Heav’nHeaven shall send ^the Day,

When Joy shall brighten, &and our Clouds give Way.

It must be so