Again the swift revolving year,
Returns the bright th' auspicious morn,
That shed its kindest influence here,
When Britain's future queen was born.
Still may the Sun on this blest day
With brighter beams indulgent rise,
Still emulate the glad'ning ray,
And milder glories of her eyes
Those charms thy spotless youth adorn
Each rip'ning year shall more display:
So the soft blushes of the morn
Give promise of a brighter day.
The pomp of pow'r, the grateful awe,
And homage which on sovereigns wait,
Your eyes without that aid cou'd draw,
And not demand it, but create.
Yet not that all-commanding form,
That face where love's soft graces play,
Tho' bright in every female charm,
Shall claim, alone, the muse's lay.
She meditates a nobler praise,
And wings a far more glorious flight,
Drinks in thy virtue's fuller blaze
And basks in those fair beams of light.
First in the ever smiling train
Religion sheds diffusive grace
In they fair breast confirms her reign,
And gives the sacred sweets of peace.
There every generous passion glows,
That can the human soul refine.
There soft maternal fondness flows,
And love so pure, 'tis half divine.
Well has it been decreed by fate,
A form so fair, so bright a mind,
Should grace the world's chief regal seat,
And bless the noblest of mankind.