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
.