In arts and arms renowned, and lovely nymphs
  The fairest of this isle, where Beauty dwells
  Delighted, and deserts her Paphian grove
  For our more favoured shades:  in proud parade
  These shine magnificent, and press around
  The royal happy pair.  Great in themselves,
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  They smile superior; of external show
  Regardless, while their inbred virtues give
  A lustre to their power, and grace their court
  With real splendours, far above the pomp
  Of eastern kings, in all their tinsel pride. 
  Like troops of Amazons, the female band
  Prance round their cars, not in refulgent arms
  As those of old; unskilled to wield the sword,
  Or bend the bow, these kill with surer aim. 
  The royal offspring, fairest of the fair,
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  Lead on the splendid train.  Anna, more bright
  Than summer suns, or as the lightning keen,
  With irresistible effulgence armed,
  Fires every heart.  He must be more than man,
  Who unconcerned can bear the piercing ray. 
  Amelia, milder than the blushing dawn,
  With sweet engaging air, but equal power,
  Insensibly subdues, and in soft chains
  Her willing captives leads.  Illustrious maids,
  Ever triumphant! whose victorious charms,
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  Without the needless aid of high descent,
  Had awed mankind, and taught the world’s great lords
  To bow and sue for grace.  But who is he
  Fresh as a rose-bud newly blown, and fair
  As opening lilies; on whom every eye
  With joy and admiration dwells?  See, see,
  He reins his docile barb with manly grace. 
  Is it Adonis for the chase arrayed? 
  Or Britain’s second hope?  Hail, blooming youth![9]
  May all your virtues with your years improve,
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  Till in consumate worth, you shine the pride
  Of these our days, and to succeeding times
  A bright example.  As his guard of mutes
  On the great sultan wait, with eyes deject
  And fixed on earth, no voice, no sound is heard
  Within the wide serail, but all is hushed,
  And awful silence reigns; thus stand the pack
  Mute and unmoved, and cowering low to earth,
  While pass the glittering court, and royal pair: 
  So disciplined those hounds, and so reserved,
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  Whose honour ’tis to glad the hearts of kings. 
   But soon the winding horn, and huntsman’s voice,
  Let loose the general chorus; far around
  Joy spreads its wings, and the gay morning smiles. 
     Unharboured now the royal stag forsakes
  His wonted lair; he shakes his dappled sides,
  And tosses high his beamy head, the copse
  Beneath his antlers bends.  What doubling shifts
  He tries! not more the wily hare; in these
  Would still persist, did not the full-mouthed pack
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  With dreadful concert thunder in his rear. 
  The woods reply, the hunter’s cheering shouts
  Float through the glades, and the wide