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Yet there is something in her face,

Tho'she's unread in Plato's lore, Might bring even Plato to disgrace,

For leaving precepts taught before:

And there is magic in her eye,

Tho' she's unskilled to conjure down The pale moon from th' affrighted sky,

Would draw Endymion from the moon :

And there are words that she can speak,

Most easy to be understood,
More sweet than all the heathen Greek

By Helen talk'd, when Paris woo'd:

And she has raptures in her power,

More worth than all the flattering claim Of learning's unsubstantial dower,

In present praise, or future fame.

Let me but kiss her soft warm hand,

And let me whisper in her ear What Knowledge would not understand,

And Wisdom would disdain to hear.

And let her listen to my tale,

And let one smiling blush arise, Best omen that my vows prevail !

I'll scorn the scorn of all the wise.

ODES.

CLASS THE SECOND.

CLASS THE SECOND.

TO

MANKIND.

ADDRESSED TO

FREDERICK, PRINCE OF WALES.

BY THE LATE EARL NUGENT.

INTRODUCTION TO THE PRINCE.

Nor me the glories of thy birth en ge,
With royal names to swell my pompouis page:
Nor meaner views allure, in soothing lays
To court thy favour with officious praise.
Yet praise it is, thus to address thine ear
In strains no slave dare sing, no tyrant hear;
While warm for Britain's rights and nature's laws,
I call forth Britain's Hope in freedom's cause:
Assert an empire which to All belongs,
And vindicate a world's long-suffer'd wrongs.

These saving truths import thee most to know,
The links that tie the mighty to the low;
What now, our fellow subject, is your due,
And, when our lord, shall be a debt on you.
O! may'st thou to the throne such maxims bring!
And feel the free-man while thou reign'st the king:

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