ON THE QUEEN'S VISIT TO LONDON, THE NIGHT OF THE 17TH MARCH, 1798. WHEN, long sequester'd from his throne, Then, Loyalty, with all his lamps 'Twas hard to tell, of streets or squares, Which form'd the chief display, These most resembling cluster'd stars, Those the long milky way. Bright shone the roofs, the domes, the spires, And rockets flew, self-driven, To hang their momentary fires Amid the vault of heaven. So fire with water to compare, The ocean serves on high Up-spouted by a whale in air, To express unwieldy joy. Had all the pageants of the world And all the banners been unfurl'd For no such sight had England's Queen Forsaken her retreat, Where George recover'd made a scene, Sweet always, doubly sweet. Yet glad she came that night to prove, How much the object of her love Darkness the skies had mantled o'er In aid of her design— Darkness, O Queen! ne'er call'd before To veil a deed of thine! On borrow'd wheels away she flies, And gratify no curious eyes That night, except her own. 104 THE QUEEN'S VISIT TO LONDON. Arrived, a night like noon she sees, Pleased she beheld aloft portray'd, Unlike the enigmatic line, So difficult to spell, Which shook Belshazzar at his wine The night his city fell. Soon watery grew her eyes But with a joyful tear; and dim, None else, except in prayer for him, It was a scene in every part Like those in fable feign'd, And seem'd by some magician's art But other magic there, she knew, To raise such wonders in her view, That cordial thought her spirits cheer'd, And through the cumbrous throng Not else unworthy to be fear'd, Convey'd her calm along. So, ancient poets say, serene With more than astronomic eyes Yet let the glories of a night Like that, once seen, suffice; Heaven grant us no such future sight, Such previous woe the price! 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, But none I found, or found them shared To modern times, with Truth to guide Thus, as the bee, from bank to bower, But rests on none, till that be found, |