CLASS THE EIGHTH.

ODE I.

THE

CONQUERED DUTCHESS.

TO THE

RIGHT HONOURABLE HENRY EOX, On the marriage of the Dutchess of Manchester to Edward Hussey, Esq. now Lord Beaulieu.

BY SIR CHARLES HANBURY WILLIAMS, knt.

CLIO, behold this charming day,

The zephyrs blow, the sun looks gay,

The sky one perfect blue;

Can you refuse at such a time,

When Fox and I both beg for rhyme,
To sing us something new?

The Goddess smil'd, and thus begun :
I've got a pleasing theme, my son !
I'll sing the Conquer'd Dutchess;
I'll sing of that disdainful fair,

Who, 'scap'd from Scotch and English snare,
Is fast in Irish clutches.

Sunk is her pow'r, her sway is o'er,
She'll be no more ador'd, no more
Shine forth the public care:

Oh! what a falling off is here,

From her whose frowns made wisdom fear,
Whose scorn begot despair!

Wide was th' extent of her commands,
O'er fertile fields, o'er barren lands,
She stretch'd her haughty reign :
The coxcomb, fool, and man of sense,
Youth, manhood, age, and impotence,
With pride receiv'd her chain.

Here Leicester offer'd brutal love,
Here gentle Cornbury gently strove
With sighs to fan desire ;

Here Churchill snor'd his hours away,
Here drowsy Stanhope every day

Sat out her Grace's fire.

Here constant Bateman too we saw,

Kneeling with reverential awe,

T'adore his high-flown choice!

Where you, my Fox, have sigh'd whole days, Forgetting king's and people's praise,

Deaf to ambition's voice.