Arise my Muse, and to my tuneful Lyre
Compose a mighty ODE,
Whose Charming Nature may inspire
The Bosom if some list’ning God
To Consecrate thy bold attempting Verse,
And Gloriana’s Fame disperse
O’er the wide Confines of the Universe.

Ye Sons of Musick, raise your Voices high,
And like your Theme, be your blest Harmony:
Then sound your Instruments, and Charm the Earth
Upon this Sacred day of Gloriana’s Birth.

See how the glitt’ring Ruler of the day
From the cool Bosom of the Sea,
Drives with speed away,
And does the Jolly Earth’s attending Planets all
To wanton Revels call;
Who from the Starry East and West,
To Celebrate this day make haste;
And in new Robes of Glory drest
Dance in a Solemn Ball!

Hail Gracious Gloriana, Hail!
May ev’ry future Year
Rowl on, unknown to Care!
May each propitious Morn arise,
Bright as your Vertue, charming as your Eyes;
And each succeeding Hour new Pleasures bring,
To make the Muses yearly sing,
Hail, Gracious Gloriana, Hail!

And since the Time’s Distress to War’s Alarms,
Calls the lov’d Monarch from your Arms,
Your Phoebus does to lower Spheres decline,
Only to rise again, and with more lusture shine.
To quell his Country’s Foes,
Behold, the god-like Heroe goes,
Fated and Born to Conquer all
The Great, the Vulgar, and the Small:
To hunt the Savages from Dens;
To teach ’em Loyalty and Sense,
And Sacred Souls of the true Faith convince.

But Oh! I see Eusebia drown’d in Tears!
The Sad Eusebia Mourning wears,
And in dejected State
Thus Mourns her helpless Fate:
Ah, wretched me! Must Caesar for my sake,
These fatal Dangers undertake?
No, no, ye awful Powers, no, no,
Fate must some meaner Force employ;
Fate must not let him go:
But Glory cries, go on, Illustrious Man,
Leave not the Work undone,
Thou hast so well begun.
Go on, Great Prince go on.

See, see, all Europe have their Eyes
On the great Enterprize!
Advance thy darling [sic] Shield,
And haste thee to the Field:
Haste, haste to Honour and Renown;
Honour, that on the Hero’s Brow shines
brighter than a Crown.

Now with a tuneful Harmony,
Exalt your Voices high,
And with your skilful Melody
Raise Gloriana’s Grief to Joy:
Bring warbling Lutes to hush her Cares;
Bring moving Flutes, to charm her Ears:
Ah! May their soft’ning Influence,
Each Passion calm, please ev’ry Sense!
Then let her never Mourn:
Great Caesar’s Absence short will be,
And Glorious his Return.