To Her ROYAL HIGHNESS the PRINCESS of
WALES,
With the Tragedy of
CATO. Nov.
1714.
TO Sir
GODFREY KNELLER,
ON HIS PICTURE of the KING.
LONDON:
Printed for
J. Tonson,
at
Shakespear
's-
Head
overagainst
Catherine-street
in the
Strand.
1716.
To Her ROYAL HIGHNESS the PRINCESS of
WALES,
With the Tragedy of
CATO. Nov.
1714.
THE Muse that oft, with sacred Raptures fired,
Has gen'rous Thoughts of Liberty inspired,
And, boldly rising for
Britannia
's Laws,
Engaged great
Cato
in her Country's Cause,
On You submissive waits, with Hopes assured,
By whom the mighty Blessing stands secured,
And all the Glories, that our Age adorn,
Are promis'd to a People yet unborn.
No longer shall the widow'd Land bemoan
A broken Lineage, and a doubtful Throne;
But boast her Royal Progeny's Increase,
And count the Pledges of her future Peace.
O Born to strengthen and to grace our Isle!
While You, fair PRINCESS, in your Off-spring smile
Supplying Charms to the succeeding Age,
Each Heav'nly Daughter's Triumphs we presage;
Already see th' Illustrious Youths complain,
And pity Monarchs doom'd to sigh in vain.
Thou too, the Darling of our fond Desires,
Whom
Albion,
opening wide her Arms, requires,
With manly Valour and attractive Air
Shalt quell the Fierce, and captivate the Fair,
O
England
's younger Hope! in whom conspire
The Mother's Sweetness, and the Father's Fire!
For Thee perhaps, ev'n Now, of Kingly Race
Some dawning Beauty bloom's in ev'ry Grace,
Some CAROLINA, to Heav'n's Dictates true,
Who, while the Scepter'd Rivals vainly sue,
Thy inborn Worth with conscious Eyes shall see,
And slight th' Imperial Diadem for Thee.
Pleas'd with the Prospect of successive Reigns,
The tuneful Tribe no more in daring Strains
Shall vindicate, with pious Fears opprest,
Endanger'd Rights, and Liberty Distrest:
To milder Sounds each Muse shall tune the Lyre,
And Gratitude, and Faith to Kings inspire,
And Filial Love; bid impious Discord cease,
And sooth the madding Factions into Peace;
Or rise Ambitious in more lofty Lays,
And teach the Nation their new Monarch's Praise,
Describe his awful Look, and Godlike Mind,
And
Caesar
's Pow'r with
Cato
's Vertue join'd.
Mean-while, Bright PRINCESS, who, with graceful Ease
And native Majesty, are form'd to please,
Behold those Arts with a propitious Eye,
That suppliant to their great Protectress fly!
Then shall they Triumph, and the
British
Stage
Improve her Manners, and refine her Rage,
More noble Characters expose to view,
And draw her finisht Heroines from You.
Nor You the kind Indulgence will refuse,
Skill'd in the Labours of the deathless Muse:
The deathless Muse with undiminisht Rays
Through distant Times the lovely Dame conveys.
To GLORIANA
Waller
's Harp was strung;
The Queen still shines, because the Poet sung.
Ev'n all those Graces, in your Frame combin'd,
The common Fate of Mortal Charms may find;
(Content Our short-liv'd Praises to engage,
The Joy and Wonder of a Single Age,)
Unless some Poet in a lasting Song
To late Posterity their Fame prolong,
Instruct our Sons the radiant Form to prize,
And see Your Beauty with their Fathers' Eyes.
TO Sir
GODFREY KNELLER,
ON HIS PICTURE of the KING.
KNELLER,
with silence and surprize
We see
Britannia
's Monarch rise,
A Godlike Form, by Thee display'd
In all the force of Light and Shade;
And, Aw'd by thy delusive Hand,
As in the Presence-chamber stand.
The Magick of thy Art calls forth
His Secret Soul and Hidden Worth,
His Probity and Mildness shows,
His Care of Friends, and Scorn of Foes:
In ev'ry Stroke, in ev'ry Line,
Does some exalted Vertue shine,
And
Albion
's Happiness we trace
Through all the Features of his Face.
O may I live to hail the Day,
When the glad Nation shall survey
Their Sov'reign, through his wide Command,
Passing in Progress o'er the Land!
Each Heart shall bend, and ev'ry Voice
In loud applauding Shouts rejoice,
Whilst All his Gracious Aspect praise,
And Crowds grow Loyal as they Gaze.
This Image on the Medal place'd,
With its Bright Round of Titles grace'd,
And Stamp'd on
British
Coins shall Live;
To Richest Ores the Value give,
Or, wrought within the Curious Mould,
Shape and adorn the Running Gold.
To bear this Form, the Genial Sun
Has daily, since his Course begun,
Rejoice'd the Metal to Refine,
And Ripen'd the
Peruvian
Mine.
Thou,
Kneller,
long with noble Pride
(The Foremost of thy Art) ha'st vied
With Nature in a gen'rous Strife,
And touch'd the Canvas into Life.
Thy Pencil has, by Monarchs sought,
From Reign to Reign in Ermine wrought,
And, in their Robes of State array'd,
The Kings of half an Age display'd.
Here swarthy
Charles
appears, and there
His Brother with Dejected Air;
Triumphant
Nassau
here we find,
And with him bright
Maria
join'd;
There
Anna,
Great as when she sent
Her Armies through the Continent,
E'er yet her Hero was disgrac't:
O may fam'd BRUNSWICK be the Last,
(Though Heav'n shou'd with my Wish agree,
And long preserve thy Art in Thee)
The Last, the Happiest
British
King,
Whom Thou shalt paint, or I shall sing!
Wise
Phidias,
thus his Skill to prove,
Through many a God advanc'd to
Jove,
And taught the polish'd Rocks to shine
With Airs and Lineaments divine;
Till
Greece,
amaz'd, and half-afraid,
Th' Assembled Deities survey'd.
Great
Pan,
who wont to chase the Fair,
And lov'd the spreading Oak, was there;
Old
Saturn
too with up-cast Eyes
Beheld his Abdicated Skies;
And mighty
Mars,
for War renown'd,
In Adamantine Armour frown'd;
By Him the childless Goddess rose,
Minerva,
studious to compose
Her twisted Threads; the Webb she strung,
And o'er a Loom of Marble hung:
Thetis
the troubled Ocean's Queen,
Match'd with a Mortal, next was seen
(Reclining on a Fun'ral Urn)
Her short-liv'd Darling Son to Mourn.
The Last was He, whose Thunder slew
The
Titan
-race, a Rebel Crew,
That from a Hundred Hills, allie'd
In impious Leagues, their King defie'd.
This Wonder of the Sculptor's Hand
Produc'd, his Art was at a stand:
For who wou'd hope New Fame to raise,
Or risque his well-establish'd Praise,
That, his high Genius to approve,
Had drawn a
GEORGE,
or carv'd a
Jove!
FINIS.