Divinest Thing! whom Heaven made to shew
The very utmost that its Skill could do:
If you had lived in ancient
Rome
, or
Greece
,
You had had Altars built you long ere this.
Not all the Pow'rs they worshipped, e'er possessed
Half of the Merit crowds your Noble Breast.
So Good, so Great, so Brave, so Heavenly Fair;
Princes are proud your Lovely Chains to wear:
So perfect are the Virtues of your Mind,
Not Envy's self, a single Stain can find:
The Vastness of your Gallant Soul doth move
The World to pay an Universal Love.
Yet at an awful Distance they admire;
Beyond a Veneration none aspire.
Oh, may these Blessings have a lasting Date,
And You be safe from all the Strokes of Fate:
My Wish is vain, (and Prayers are needless too)
Heav'n is too Just to be Unkind to You.