Note 480 — PART THE SECOND. (continued 11)

When, long sequester'd from his throne, George took his seat again, By right of worth, not blood alone, Entitled here to reign! Then Loyalty, with all her lamps, New trimm'd, a gallant show, Chasing the darkness and the damps, Set London, in a glow. 'Twas hard to tell, of streets, of squares, Which form'd the chief display, These most resembling cluster'd stars, Those the long milky way. Bright shone the roofs, the domes, the spires, And rockets flew, self-driven, To hang their momentary fires Amid the vault of heaven. So, fire with water to compare, The ocean serves on high, Up-spouted by a whale in air, To express unwieldy joy. Had all the pageants of the world In one procession join'd, And all the banners been unfurl'd That heralds e'er design'd, For no such sight had England's Queen Forsaken her retreat, Where George recover'd made a scene Sweet always, doubly sweet. Yet glad she came that night to prove, A witness undescried, How much the object of her love Was lov'd by all beside. Darkness the skies had mantled o'er In aid of her design— Darkness, O Queen! ne'er call'd before To veil a deed of thine! On borrow'd wheels away she flies, Resolved to be unknown, And gratify no curious eyes That night, except her own. Arriv'd, a night like noon she sees, And hears the million hum; As all by instinct, like the bees, Had known their sov'reign come. Pleas'd she beheld aloft portray'd, On many a splendid wall, Emblems of health and heav'nly aid, And George the theme of all. Unlike the enigmatic line, So difficult to spell, Which shook Belshazzar at his wine, The night his city fell. Soon watery grew her eyes, and dim, But with a joyful tear! None else, except in prayer for him, George ever drew from her. It was a scene in every part Like that in fable feign'd, And seem'd by some magician's art Created and sustain'd. But other magic there she knew Had been exerted none, To raise such wonders to her view, Save love to George alone. That cordial thought her spirit cheer'd, And, through the cumb'rous throng, Not else unworthy to be fear'd, Convey'd her calm along. So, ancient poets say, serene The sea-maid rides the waves, And, fearless of the billowy scene, Her peaceful bosom laves. With more than astronomic eyes She viewed the sparkling show; One Georgian star adorns the skies, She myriads found below. Yet let the glories of a night Like that, once seen, suffice! Heaven grant us no such future sight— Such precious woe the price!