Did twenty _Garnets_ now outface:
Nay, to the Wonder to add more,
Declare unheard-of things before;
And thousand Myst'ries does unfold,
As plain as Oracles of old,
By which we steer Affairs of State,
And stave off _Britain's_ sullen Fate.
Let's then, in Honour of the Name
Of _OATES_, enact some Solemn Game,
Where Oaten Pipe shall us inspire
Beyond the charms of _Orpheus_ Lyre;
Stone, Stocks, and e'ery sensless thing
To _Oates_ shall dance, to _Oates_ shall sing,
Whilst Woods amaz'd to t'Ecchoes ring.
And that this Hero's Name may not,
When they are rotten, be forgot,
We'll hang Atchievments o'er their Dust,
A Debt we owe to Merits just
So if Deserts of _Oates_ we prize,
Let _Oates_ still hang before our Eyes,
Thereby to raise our contemplation,
_Oates_ being to this happy Nation
A Mystick Emblem of Salvation.




THE MIRACLE.

TO THE TUNE OF "O YOUTH, THOU HADST BETTER BEEN STARVED AT NURSE."