Richmond Lodge

In my own Thames may I be drownded, If e'er I stoop beneath a crown'd head: Except her majesty prevails To place me with the Prince of Wales; And then I shall be free from fears, For he'll be prince these fifty years. I then will turn a courtier too, And serve the times as others do. Plain loyalty, not built on hope, I leave to your contriver, Pope; None loves his king and country better, Yet none was ever less their debtor.