To * * * * * * on Her Birth-day

From bounteous Heaven, as early show'rs are found,
With wond'rous pow'r to fertilize the ground;
Thus, oft the heavy storms of grief and woe,
Bid the sweet buds of heav'nly virtue blow;
They glow with thee, A SPASIA ! — May they bring.
A glorious harvest — an unfading spring!
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