If mongst the happy number this day crowd
To kis your hand, my humble pens alowd,
Looke not by it to find your story told;
My conscious feares forbid me act so bold,
A taske for ablest wits, and worth ther paines
To speake such wonders in such current straines.
Nor doe I aspire here to. wish you ioy,
A welcome servant to the winged boy;
For praires can nothing add when all's your owne,
You give to all, but can receave from none.
Let me recall that hasty word, you may
Only from him whom you have chose to-day.
Equall your merit is, your power is soe,
And all you are to one another owe.
What's then my aime? to hide me in the throng,
My voyce be heard, but not observed my song.
In ernest it were handsome, and tis fit,
Since none thinks more, or worse can utter it:
A blush is sav'd too, my obedience showne,
To.vote with th' best is all I dare to owne.