WElcom, Renowned Prince! thrice Welcom here,
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Who art to Europe, as to Britain dear:
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No Land or Country but has heard your Fame;
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In every place is known Great MONMOUTH's Name:
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There is no Nation but your Worth can tell,
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And where you may belov'd, in safety dwell:
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Such is your Virtue, that where e're you come,
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You are no Stranger, but are still at Home.
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It is the lustre of your beauteous Mind,
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That makes you thus the Darling of Mankind.
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Though you ne'er us'd mean, base, and politick Arts,
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To overcome, and win the Peoples Hearts;
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Yet you have gain'd, for which you never strove,
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By Virtue's secret Charms, a Nations Love.
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When you the Court, and famous LONDON left,
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All look'd as if they were of Joy bereft:
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A Spring-Tide flow'd from all the Peoples Eyes,
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Which follow'd was, with an huge Storm of sighs;
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By which your Foes, if you have any, learn'd,
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That all the honest World's for you concern'd;
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And till they heard you safely Landed were,
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A troubled Cloud did in each Face appear:
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But now, Great Sir, their trouble will abate,
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And your safe Landing we Congratulate:
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All honest Englishmen rejoyce to see
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You've pass'd the Dangers of the British Sea:
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For you to Heav'n ten thousand Prayers are sent,
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As many happy Wishes daily spent;
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