Politics & government

          More to be done yet,
                        OR;
Her Majeſty's moſt Gracious TOKEN

              To the Right Honourable the

                Earl of Oxford.

HIGH art Thou Rais'd (tho' ſhort of Thy Deſert)
Oh HARLEY! Sharer of Thy Sov'raigns Heart,
On Thee the Monarch, and the People caſt
Expecting Eyes, preſuming thence at laſt
A Cure muſt riſe, for all our Evils paſt.
A NATION PLUNDER'S, and a TRADE diſmay'd;
RELIGION banter'd, and the Folks diſmay'd;
Part Thou'ſt already for Thy Country done,
(Thy Parts perſpicuous as the Riſing SUN)
'Tis Thee alone we Worſhip, or deplore,
For Tbou'rt the RISING-SUN we now adore.
Round thy vaſt LEVEE Thou Thy Beams doſt ſpread,
Drawn from an Honeſt Heart, and a Sagacious Head,
Thou OXFORD'S Second Self, with Learning fraught,
Full of thoſe LOYAL TRUTHS Sh'as always Taught,
And whence Thy TITLE was as juſtly brought,

Yet ſtill, methinks, when I Thy Perſon view,
High as Thou art, there's ſomething ſtill Thy due;
Since Streams of Honour from Bright ANNA flow,
Is there not One Thing yet She may beſtow ?
Are there not Honour'd Enſigns worn by ſome
That ſeem to Languiſh, which on Thee wou'd Bloom ?
Oh Glorious ANNA, let us then implore
To grace Thy HARLET with One TOKEN more;
Which ſiace the Laws of Honour won't reſign,
Fortune has pav'd the Way by Thoſe Divine :
Do't, and in double Bowls Thy Health we'll Quaff,
Let Bet—f—d's GARTER, Grace God—l—n's STAFF.

LONDON, Printed for W. Brewer near Thames-ſtreet.