When Britain's Monarch, in true Greatness great,
His Council's Counsel, did Things past unfold,
He (eminent in Knowledge as in State)
What might occur oraculously told;
And when far rais'd from this Terrestrial Round,
He numbrous Notes with measur'd Fury frames,
Each Accent weigh'd, no Jarr in Sense, or Sound,
He Phœbus seems, his Lines Castalian Streams,
This Worth (though much we owe) doth more extort;
All Honor should, but it constrains to Love,
While ravish'd still above the vulgar Sort
He Prince, or Poet, more than Man doth prove:
But all his due who can afford him then,
A God of Poets, and a King of Men.