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Thy Hortus Siccus still receives :

In tomes twice ten, that work immense!
By thee compil'd at vast expence;
With utmost diligence amass'd,

And shall as many ages last.

And now, methinks, my genius sees My friend, amidst his plants and trees; Full in the center there he stands. Encircled with his verdant bands; Who all around obsequious wait, To know his pleasure, and their fäte : His royal orders to receive, To grow, decay, to die, or live: That not the proudest kings can boast A greater, or more duteous, host.

Thou all that power dost truly know, Which they but dream of here below; Thy absolute despotic reign

Inviolably dost maintain,

Nor with ill-govern'd wrath affright
Thy people, or insult their right:
But, as thy might in greatness grows,
Thy mercy in proportion flows:
Nor they undutiful deny

What's due to lawful majesty;
Safe in thy court from all the cares,
Domestic treasons, foreign wars

Which monarchs and their crowns perplex, Whom factions still, or favorites vex.

But thou, on thy botanic throne, Sit'st fearless, uncontrol'd, alone: Thy realms in tumults ne'er involv'd, Or, rising, are as soon dissolv'd: Free from the mischiefs and the strife Of a false friend, or fury wife : And if a rebel slave, or son, Audacious by indulgence grown, Presumes above his mates to rise, And their dull loyalty despise : Thou, awful Sultan! with a look, Canst all his arrogance rebuke; And, darting one imperial frown, Hurl the bold traitor headlong down: His brethren, trembling at his fate, Thy dread commands with reverence wait : Thy wondrous power and justice own, And learn t'assert a tottering throne.

Thus, Kings that were in empire wise,
Rebellions early should chastise;
And give their clemency no time,
Betwixt the th' offender and the crime,
With fatal eloquence to plead,
Which does more rebels only breed.
Bobart, to Kings thy rules commend,
For thou to Monarchs art a friend.

Thus, Sovereign Planter! I have paid The debt, the promis'd present made: Do thou, what's written for thy sake With freedom, with like freedom take. Take the just praise thy friend may give, And in my verse for ever live!

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EPISTLE II.

ΤΟ

SIGNIOR ANTONIO VERRIO,
AT HAMPTON COURT;

ON THE GRANT OF WOODSTOCK PARK, &c.

TO THE DUKE OF MARLBOROUGH, 1704.

FROM

BAINBRIGG BUCKEREDGE, ESQ.

RENOWN'D in arms when mighty heroes rise,
Th' immortal Muse in lasting numbers tries
To future ages to transmit their fame,
And give them, after death, a living name.
The fields of bliss below, the shady grove,
Were the reward of all their toils above;
The Mantuan Swain has fill'd the solemn place
With the wreath'd worthies of his Roman race;
While greater Marlborough disdains to wait,
Mature for fame, the slow approach of fate;
But reaps that glorious harvest whilst he lives,
Which time to all his ancient heroes gives.
Elysian shades shall now no more be sought,
The gay creation of the poet's thought;
The royal gift displays a nobler view,
No feign'd Elysium can exceed the true.

Woodstock her lov'd Plantagenet no more

Laments, when Marlborough shall her state restore ;
She for whom Chaucer's tuneful lyre was strung,
And Wilmot's Muse in softer transport sung,
From lonely bowers her lofty head shall rear,
And cheerful, like her conquering lord, appear.
Through her cool glades, on every verdant plain,
Eternal Plenty, Peace, and Pleasure reign:
High on her walls, Imperial Eagles tell,
By bolder hands how fierce Bavarians fell ;
Here we behold, by Verrio's pencil wrought,
The numerous spoils from Swabian conquests brought;
How o'er th' opposing Schellenberg he run,
Which none before but great Gustavus won.
Here, camps assaulted, and a city storm'd ;
There, on expanded plains, the battle form'd;
Through seas of blood the fiery coursers fly,
And rapid streams and thundering brass defy;
While echoing cliffs and sylvan heights around
With groans and shouts alternately resound.
Surrendering squadrons with their lilies torn,
And haughty chiefs before his prowess born ;
In exile One, and One beneath his chain,
Strive for a crown and liberty in vain.

Gild his victorious car, bold Artist; draw Albion rejoicing, and the world in awe; Paint in full splendor all his acts, that claim Triumphant laurels and immortal fame.

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