TO HIS ROYAL HIGHNESS The DUKE of
CƲ MBERLAND,
ON HIS BIRTH-DAY.
April
the 15th, 1732.
By
STEPHEN DUCK.
LONDON:
Printed for
J. Jackson
in
Pall-Mall.
(Price 4
d.
) 1732.
TO HIS ROYAL HIGHNESS The DUKE of CUMBERLAND, &c.
T Welve Times hath
Sol
his annual Race begun,
Since
Jove
descended from his radiant Throne.
Around the pendent Globe the God pursu'd
His circling March, and human Actions view'd,
But griev'd that Virtue droop'd her languid Head,
While Vice from Clime to Clime contagious spread.
Back to his native Seat he sternly flies,
And sends an Edict thro' the spacious Skies,
To call th'ethereal Pow'rs swift flew his Word,
Th'ethereal Pow'rs as swift attend their Lord.
Upon
Olympus'
Top the Synod met,
Where high inthron'd the thund'ring Monarch sat,
And with a Nod that shook the Spheres, he swore
The Minor Gods should visit Earth no more.
What must your earthly Sons,
Minerva
cry'd,
Explore their doubtful Way without a Guide?
If
Pallas
must no more to Mortals go,
Let
Pallas
beg a Substitute below.
Worthy to rule the World, whose noble Mind
May copy out the Gods to human Kind.
She lowly bow'd, and
Jove
consenting smil'd,
Go form said he, this new imagin'd Child.
Collect the best Materials where you will,
And let us see for once
Minerva
's Skill.
He said, she hastens o'er the bright Abodes,
Selecting each Perfection of the Gods.
From
Mars
she warlike Strength and Courage took,
But soften'd them with
Venus'
graceful Look.
To these she added
Hermes'
Eloquence,
And crown'd it with her own superior Sense.
Some of
Apollo
's piercing Rays she stole,
And while the Muses play'd she form'd a Soul.
When thus compos'd the bright Ingredients lay,
She nobly drest 'em in ethereal Clay.
Jove
touch'd the Mass with his enliv'ning Hand,
And vital Warmth inspir'd a
CUMBERLAND.
FINIS.