And all the past should be forgot!
Alas! I see no Signs of Grace:
Still there is Triumph in her face;
And on this very Day we find
The same her Form, the same her Mind!
Then, since the Fair affects her Reign,
’Tis bootless that her Slaves complain.
At once, then, let them own her power,
And hail the Day and bless the Hour, 30
That to the World a Sovereign gave,