XIII.
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s when the new-born phoenix takes his way,His rich paternal regions to survey,Of airy choristers a numerous trainAttend his wonderous progress o'er the plain;So, rising from his father's urn,So glorious did our Charles return;The officious muses came along,A gay harmonious quire, like angels ever young;The muse, that mourns him now, his happy triumph sung.[57]Even they could thrive in his auspicious reign;And such a plenteous crop they boreOf purest and well-winnowed grain,As Britain never knew before.Though little was their hire, and light their gain,Yet somewhat to their share he threw;Fed from his hand, they sung and flew,Like birds of paradise, that lived on morning dew.Oh never let their lays his name forget!The pension of a prince's praise is great.Live then, thou great encourager of arts,Live ever in our thankful hearts;Live blest above, almost invoked below;Live and receive this pious vow,Our patron once, our guardian angel now!Thou Fabius of a sinking state,Who didst by wise delays divert our fate,When faction like a tempest rose,In death's most hideous form,Then art to rage thou didst oppose,To weather out the storm;Not quitting thy supreme command,Thou heldst the rudder with a steady hand,Till safely on the shore the bark did land;The bark, that all our blessings brought,Charged with thyself and James, a doubly-royal fraught.
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