A Poem humbly inscrib'd to the Queen.

Three Poems; the first, sacred to the immortal Memory of the late King; the second, on the happy Succession, and Coronation of his Present Majesty; and a third humbly inscrib'd to the Queen.

Rev. Laurence Eusden

Laurence Eusden, Poet Laureate, expresses the wish to emulate Spenser by praising Queen Caroline as a new Elizabeth. Among Eusden's papers was found a manuscript translation of Tasso. Eusden is said to have left in MS. a substantial translation of Fairfax's Tasso. Not seen.

Samuel Austin Allibone: "Lawrence Eusden, d. 1730, a son of the Rev. Dr. Eusden, Rector of Spotsworth, Yorkshire, after receiving his education at Trinity College, Cambridge, went into orders, and was for some time chaplain to Richard, Lord Willoughby de Broke. He found warm friends in Lord Halifax, whose poem On the Battle of the Boyne he translated into Latin, and in the Duke of Newcastle, whose marriage to Lady Godolphin he celebrated in an Epithalamium, which raised the author to the laureateship in 1718. He published a number of occasional poems, contributed a few pieces to the Spectator and Guardian, and left in MS. a translation of the works of Tasso, with a life of the poet. Some specimens of his poetical abilities will be found in Nichols's Poems" Critical Dictionary of English Literature (1858-71; 1882) 1:563.

O! could my Strains paint worthily the Queen,
And in my Numbers were her Beauties seen!
Their Harmony, like her sweet Voice, should please,
And they majestic flow, with graceful Ease!
Each happy Verse should Spenser's Song out-shine,
And Gloriana yield to CAROLINE!
Scarce can poetic Wit a Wonder feign,
But what may Credit from thy Virtues gain.
In fragrant Laps the Hours receiv'd Thee first,
And the swath'd Babe the smiling Graces nurst:
On thy new Accents soft Persuasion hung,
And still it glides from that melodious Tongue.
Soon as the Meads thy tender Prints could know,
There spring the Lilies! there the Roses blow!
There Vi'lets rise, and purple Clusters spread!
True Omens of thy future, Royal Bed! . . .

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