The Virginia Gazette

WILLIAMSBURG, Dec. 22.

TO THE

Right Honourable Lord BOTETOURT.

IF now, my Lord, your more important care
Can to the muse a vacant minute spare,
By me she asks an humble vow to pay,
A simple, artless, but a loyal lay.
Conscious of strength unequal to the strain,
Through ages back she seeks not Crewe's plain
Nor sings those honours whose illustrious grace
Adorn the chiefs of BERKLEY's generous race
Much less she dares my slender reed engage
To sing the BOTETOURT of GEORGE's age
Much less his genius or his skill declare,
Go fit for empire's each important care:
Though active mild, though vigilant polite
Form'd to instruct, to govern, and delight;
Whose eloquence majestick, strong, and clear,
In happy wonder bids attention hear
Me she commands-forbear such themes as these-
None but a Pindar can a Theron praise:
But, if great BERKLEY will his ear incline,
Tell him you bear the mandates of the Nine,
His smiles auspicious on this infant land
To ask, nor last for Thespia's tuneful band,
That when, matur'd by time, his brighter fame
Shall from the muse a louder clarion claim
Secure and happy, when each peaceful swain
With his own hand shall plant his fruitful plains
When western navies shall in triumph bear
The wealthy traffick for Britannia's ware;
When Britain, here, in every one shall have
Her Prince's subject, not her people's slaves
Who each firm line of bounded power shall know
Nor dread by mightier violence to bow;
When distant threats of rapine, and of arms,
No more shall shock these climes with dire alarms;
Prun'd by his hand, when Freedom's palm shall bloom
And promise strength for ages yet to come;
When, blest, America can justly raise
Her thankful paeans to her guardian's praise
Not, BERNARD-like, an engine of distress,
The scorpion scourge of an unhappy race,
But like a CHESTERFIELD, benign and mild,
At whose command a wretched kingdom smil'd
O! name for ever sacred with the Muse,
Whose generous wish could happiness diffuse
Through wretched millions, whom the tyrant rage
Of wild ambition crush'd from age to age!
O! such should BERKLEY to Virginia prove,
How would each heart o'erflow with generous love!
From line to line the glorious flame would run,
With brighter splendour spread from sire to son-
Then shall the muse each chosen son inspire,
With happier art to strike the sounding lyre
Til, wide as air diffus'd, his patriot name
Through time shall triumph on the voice of fame.