The blooming virtue of his sire;
In each maturing fair we find,
Maternal charms of softer kind.
Recitativo.
In vain thro’ ages past has Phœbus reli’d,35
E’re such a sight blest Albion could behold
Thrice happy Mortals, if your state you knew,
Where can the Globe so blest a nation shew?
All that of you indulgent Heav’n requires,
Is loyal Hearts, to reach your own Desires.40