Writ on a Blank Leaf of Alzira, When Given to His Royal Highness, the Prince of Wales

Go, Muse nor vainly mourn Britannia stray'd,
In faction , roughning, or dissolv'd, in trade ;
Tasteless of letters ; yet, to Fame , inclin'd,
Busily viewless , and profoundly blind :
Go, to thy Country 's Hope, invoke his care;
Watch, if he smiles, and, then, suspend despair;
Bless his protective hand, that calls out Arts ,
And hail his Empire , o'er a people's hearts .
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