Fable XXXI. the Olympic Court

The GODS in awful synod met This lower world to regulate, Resolv'd, in gracious mood, to grant What mortals most might wish or want; And gave ten thousand blessings birth To glad unthankful sons of earth; Who favour'd with unbounded store, Pray'd—when they pray'd at all—for more.

JOVE wearied with sollicitation From ev'ry rank, of ev'ry nation, Propos'd th' OLYMPIC council should Conjoin to form a gen'ral good; Nor longer waste their sacred pow'r In toys which vanish with the hour.

Why should, says he, a slave of vice Invoke us to assist his dice? Shall usurers become so bold To ask from us fresh heaps of gold? Dare fleecing lawyers think that we Hold forth for knaves the quick'ning fee? Must we, that PHYSIC'S sons may ride, Breathe pestilence in airy tide? That ladies may be wrap'd in night, Ought we to quench celestial light? To please them all we try in vain, Do what we can, they will complain: Then hear, CELESTIALS, what I ask, Assist me in the glorious task— Throughout creation's various plan No work exceeds a virtuous man; Call ev'ry GRACE from ev'ry part, Which best improve the MIND and HEART. I'll give to BRITISH GEORGE an Heir Worthy a royal parent's care; No monarch more deserves regard, No nation better claims reward; Then let a PATRIOT PRINCE be born, Who like his Sire may crowns adorn; On whom I will myself bestow Perfections mortals seldom know; JUSTICE shall all his actions guide, With Mercy smiling at her side.

When hostile force provokes to war, You MARS shall guide his rapid car; And NEPTUNE you shall smooth the tides, O'er which his conquering navy rides; APOLLO must his councils wait, Assistant guardian of the state; And HERMES, giving voice to sense, Cloath thou his tongue with eloquence. CHERUBS who heard the thund'rer speak, Their joy in acclamations break; While echo wing'd on spicy gales Resounded GEORGE—our—PRINCE of WALES.

One care remain'd yet unadjusted, To whom the Prince might be entrusted; MINERVA said, for mankind's sake, She on herself the task would take.

JOVE lik'd what she propos'd, and cried, We could not wish a better guide; Go take the stile of FINCH, and prove The feelings of a mother's love; With virtues warm, and judgment cool, Instruct thy infant charge to rule: The Goddess smil'd; and now is seen Just delegate of BRITAIN'S QUEEN.