TO THE KING.
Amid a rapt’rous nation’s praise That sees Thee to their prayers restor’d, Turn gently from the gen’ral blaze,—Thy Charlotte woos her bosom’s lord.
Turn and behold where, bright and clear, Depictur’d with transparent art, The emblems of her thoughts appear, The tribute of a grateful heart.
O! small the tribute, were it weigh’d With all she feels—or half she owes! But noble minds are best repaid from the pure spring whence bounty flows.
P.S. The little bearer begs a kiss from dear papa for bringing this.
I need not, I think, tell you, the little bearer begged not in vain. The king was extremely pleased. He came into a room belonging to the princesses, in which we had a party to look at the illuminations, and there he stayed above an hour; cheerful, composed, and gracious! all that could merit the great national testimony to his worth this day paid him.