AN ODE. Sung before the KING on New-Years-Day.
ARise Great Monarch, see the joyful day,
Drest in the glories of the East,
Presumes to interrupt your Sacred rest.
Never did Night more willingly give way,
Or Morn more chearfully appear,
Big with the mighty tidings of a New born Year.
II.
Blest be that Sun who in times fruitful Womb,
Was to this noble Embassie design’d,
To Head the Golden Troops of days to come,
Nor lag’d ingloriously behind,
Ignobly in the last years Throng to rise and set.
In this ’tis happier far than May,
Since to add Years is greater than to give a day.
Chorus.
Oh may the happy days encrease,
With spoils of War, and Wealth of Peace.
Till time and age shall swallow’d be,
Lost in vast Eternity.
May Charles n’ere quit his sacred Throne,
Himself succeed himself alone.
And to lengthen out his time,
Take, God, from us and give to him.
That so each World a Charles may know,
Father above and Son below.
III.
Heark the Jocund Sphears renew
Their cheerful and melodious Song,
While the glad Gods are pleas’d to view
The rich and painted throng
Of happy days in their fair order march along.
Move on, ye prosperous hours, move on,
Finish your Course so well begun;
Let no ill omen dare prophane
Your beautious and harmonious train,
Or Jealousies or foolish fears disturb you as you run.
IV.
See mighty Charles, how all the minutes press,
Each longing which shall first appear,
Since in this renowned year,
Not one but feels a secret happiness,
As big with new events and some unheard success:
See how our troubles vanish, see
How the tumultuous Tribes agree.
Propitious Winds bear all our griefs away,
And Peace clears up the Troubled day.
Not a wrinkle, not a Scar
Of faction or dishonest War,
But Pomps and Triumphs deck the Noble Kalendar
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