Rev. Thomas Carte

True-Blue of Manchester, "To the immortal Thomas Carte" Jacobite's Journal (12 March 1748).

O may some Poet rise, in future Times,
Worthy to sing thy Praise, that soaring high,
Above th' Aonian Mount, or Sky-dipt Top,
Or Snowdon's Brow, that, if compass'd, would make
Pindus a Wart; thence, on Miltonian wing
Mounting a-loft, may reach the Stars of Heaven,
And there inscribe thy never-dying Name;
That as the Greater Bear, so call'd of old,
Was chang'd by Moderns to the Charles's Wain,
The Lesser may be call'd from thee the Cart;
There may'st thou roll within thy narrower Orb,
Attendant and regardant; nor e'er set,
Nor setting, fall beneath the Ocean's Brine,
As the blind GrecianBbard divinely sings
Self-taught. There may'st thou ever shine, to guide
The British Sailor o'er th' Atlantic Deep,
Homewards returning from each distant Clime,
And point his Course out to his native Strand;
Where safe arriv'd, he jocund leaps on shore,
Roaming in search of Wine and buxom Lass,
His Solace from long wat'ry Way return'd.

Whilst Thames does flow, whilst Albion's chalky Cliffs
Do brave the Ocean's surge; whilst she reigns Queen
Among the Sea girt Isles, so long secure
Thy Name, thy Honour, and thy Praise shall last;
But never from thy Patrons' Praise disjoin'd.
Prince of Historians, to thy greater Worth
The antient Greek, of History stiled the Sire,
Resigns submiss his Title; and he too,
Olorus' son, his everlasting Claim.
Great Livy, bowing low, shall own thee far
His greater: E'en Guthry himself, tho' loth,
Reluctant tho', must yield. — "Cupidum pater optime vires deficiunt"—