H er eye hath made a Prince a page;
A nd works, each day, a miracle!
R aise but your looks to her, and see
E ven the true beams of Majesty!
G reat Princes, mark her duly!
I f all the world you do survey,
N o forehead spreads so bright a ray;
A nd notes a Prince, so truly!
HYMN IX.
To Flora.