Sung to the KING on New-years-day.
I.
SEE, Mighty Sir! the Day appears
That adds One to Your happy Years:
The Sun, the Moon, and Stars decree
This for a Year of Jubile,
And threaten to disband
That Hour that dares Your Health or Peace withstand.
2.
The Days are all at Loyal strife,
Which shall be th’Happiest of your Life;
And each, with an impatient thirst,
Does strive to crowd it self the first:
Succeeding Months protest,
That, though they bring the Last, they’l bring the Best.
3.
What more cou’d kind Apollo do,
Than fend you Light, and Musique too:
His kindest Nature, purest Art,
Conspire to please your Eye, and Heart:
This, this, he says, is due;
And he Lends others, what he Pays to You.
4.
Come we his Scholars, come away,
Let’s Sing, and Solemnize this Day:
And may we never, never find
Your self less Happy, him less kind!
So will we ever Sing;
Thanks to our MASTER, Praises to our KING.
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