Describe his conduct, and reward his pains:
But since the state has all your cares engross'd,
And poetry in higher thoughts is lost,
Attend to what a lesser Muse indites,
Pardon her faults and countenance her flights.
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On you, my lord, with anxious fear I wait,
And from your judgment must expect my fate,
Who, free from vulgar passions, are above
Degrading envy, or misguided love;
If you, well pleased, shall smile upon my lays,
Secure of fame, my voice I'll boldly raise;
For next to what you write, is what you praise.


TO THE KING.

When now the business of the field is o'er,
The trumpets sleep, and cannons cease to roar;
When every dismal echo is decay'd,
And all the thunder of the battle laid;
Attend, auspicious prince, and let the Muse
In humble accents milder thoughts infuse.
Others, in bold prophetic numbers skill'd,
Set thee in arms, and led thee to the field;
My Muse, expecting, on the British strand
Waits thy return, and welcomes thee to land:
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She oft has seen thee pressing on the foe,
When Europe was concerned in every blow;