Royalty

                        THE

    Song for the New-Year 1708.

Set by Mr. Eccles Maſter of Her Majeſty's Muſick.

                                    The Words

      By Mr. Tate Poet-Laureat to Her Majesty.

SEE how the New-Born Seaſon Springs !
High Entring in auſpicious State,
On Smiling UNION's Golden Wings ;
See the Bleſſings that He brings,
EUROPE's Freedom, Tyrants Fate.

Trophies and Triumphant Spoils,
Due to our ANNA's Royal Cares,
Due to our ANNA's pious Pray'rs ;
And MARLBOROUGH's Martial Toils.

Freſh Lawrels ſhall Adorn his Brow,
Like thoſe of Blenheim's and Ramillia's Plain ;
Nor leſs Renown'd his laſt Campaign ;
Fame and the Flying Foe muſt This allow,
Their Troops He Conquer'd Then, their Heartand Courage Now.

Thus Tyrants, Haughty in Succeſs,
Like Cowards in Diſtreſs,
With ſhameful Shifts comply ;
In Pain prolong their wretched Breath,
Rather than meet a Glorious Death,
Tho' Sure at Laſt to Die :
Chor. Yes ; and the doleful Day draws Nigh.

Then ſhall the Drum and Trumpet ſleep,
The Weary World have Reſt ;
The Seas Pacific Silence keep,
Calm as their Guardian GEORGE's Breſt.

Nor in thoſe Halcyon Days of Peace
Shall Glorious ANNA's Triumphs ceaſe ;

                               Grand Chorus.

New Wonders of Glory
Unrival'd in Story,
New Scenes of Applauſe, ſhall her Annals Adorn,
With a Harveſt of Bleſſings for Ages Unborn.

                                    FINIS.