A urora, the bright usher of the morn,
N or Sol, whose splendour does the day adorn,
N o such enlivening influences can
E xtend to us, like those of glorious Anne;
Q ueen of our isle, whose power I plainly see,
U nto her titles justly will agree.
E xalted on the throne, her virtues there
E ach in their lustre do to us appear:
N o clouds can now obstruct the gracious smile
O f her bright rays, that lay obscure a while;
F rom thence her graces send their splendour down,
E xceeding all the jewels in the crown.
N o sparkling gem set in that splendid train
G ives such delight as from herself we gain.
L ike as the sun, with his enlivening fire,
A wakes the dead, and gently does inspire
N ew life and soul to all that winter’s cold
D id mortify, and in chill prisons hold.
