Classic Poem

No charms are wanting to thy artful song,
Soft as Corelli, but as Virgil strong:
From words so sweet new grace the notes receive,
And Music borrows helps she us'd to give.
Thy style hath match'd what ancient Romans knew,
Thy flowing numbers far excel the new,
Their cadence in such easy sound convey'd,
That height of thought may seem superfluons aid;
Yet in such charms the noble thoughts abound,
That needless seem the sweets of easy sound.
Accept, great Monarch of the British lays!
The tribute-song an humble subject pays:
So tries the artless lark her early flight,
And soars to hail the god of Verse and Light.
Unrivall'd as thy merit be thy fame,
And thy own laurels shade thy envy'd name.