The best and worst that could be had;
Then from a clay of mixture base
He shaped a ——­ to rule the race,
Endow’d with gifts from every brute
That best the * * nature suit. 
Thus think on ——­s:  the name denotes
Hogs, asses, wolves, baboons, and goats. 
To represent in figure just,
Sloth, folly, rapine, mischief, lust;
Oh! were they all but Neb-cadnezers,
What herds of ——­s would turn to grazers! 
  Fair Britain, in thy monarch blest,
Whose virtues bear the strictest test;
Whom never faction could bespatter,
Nor minister nor poet flatter;
What justice in rewarding merit! 
What magnanimity of spirit! 
What lineaments divine we trace
Through all his figure, mien, and face! 
Though peace with olive binds his hands,
Confess’d the conquering hero stands. 
Hydaspes,[28] Indus, and the Ganges,
Dread from his hand impending changes. 
From him the Tartar and Chinese,
Short by the knees,[29] entreat for peace. 
The consort of his throne and bed,
A perfect goddess born and bred,
Appointed sovereign judge to sit
On learning, eloquence, and wit. 
Our eldest hope, divine Iuelus,[30]
(Late, very late, O may he rule us!)
What early manhood has he shown,
Before his downy beard was grown,
Then think, what wonders will be done
By going on as he begun,
An heir for Britain to secure
As long as sun and moon endure. 
  The remnant of the royal blood
Comes pouring on me like a flood. 
Bright goddesses, in number five;
Duke William, sweetest prince alive. 
Now sing the minister of state,
Who shines alone without a mate. 
Observe with what majestic port
This Atlas stands to prop the court: 
Intent the public debts to pay,
Like prudent Fabius,[31] by delay. 
Thou great vicegerent of the king,
Thy praises every Muse shall sing! 
In all affairs thou sole director;
Of wit and learning chief protector,
Though small the time thou hast to spare,
The church is thy peculiar care. 
Of pious prelates what a stock
You choose to rule the sable flock! 
You raise the honour of the peerage,
Proud to attend you at the steerage. 
You dignify the noble race,
Content yourself with humbler place. 
Now learning, valour, virtue, sense,
To titles give the sole pretence. 
St. George beheld thee with delight,
Vouchsafe to be an azure knight,
When on thy breast and sides Herculean,
He fix’d the star and string cerulean. 
  Say, poet, in what other nation
Shone ever such a constellation! 
Attend, ye Popes, and Youngs, and Gays,
And tune your harps, and strew your bays: 
Your panegyrics here provide;
You cannot err on flattery’s side. 
Above the stars exalt your style,
You still are low ten thousand mile. 
On Lewis all his bards bestow’d
Of incense many a thousand load;
But Europe mortified his pride,
And swore the fawning rascals lied.