IN Autumn when Seges decores the Fields,
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And Phoebus all plentiful Desires yeelds.
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These Creatures who did formerly bewail
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Their hard Estate, sing now in Annandale,
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There's Hope that Heavens will crown the year with good
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And Hoptoun blest with all manner of Food.
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Whilst Sun and Moon endure, so that there may
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Never be Want of Hope that Grace decay.
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For 'tis by Hope, That Love and Charity
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Are still upheld, without it both do dye.
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May Hoptoun flourish still with Lady Hen-
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Rietta, and have a Stock of good Children.
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That thro' all Ages, there may never fail
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The Memory of Hope and Annandale.
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Whose Noble Fame doth add to Hoptons Honour,
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He being by good Fate bestow'd upon Her.
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Who like to Flora in Spring of the Year,
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Sends furth a Fragrant Smell both far and near,
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To the Solace of all that See or Hear.
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Of these choice Virtues wherewith her tender Breast
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Is richly endu'd wherein true Hope doth rest,
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And full Assurance may always obtain
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Of human Pleasure, Beauty pure and clean.
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Her Noble Predecessors ever have
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Prov'd in all Ages Pious, Wise and Grave,
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And famous in such actions as might tend
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Their Countrey's Good, and Int'rest to defend.
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So, all who know the Bridegroom and the Bride,
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Hope they will prove in time (if Good betide)
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Which is the hearty Pray'r of Muses, when
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They are encourag'd Virtue's Praise to pen.
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But if they find their Labour quite neglected,
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To pray or praise they cease, being dejected.
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Yet still there's Hope they may revive again,
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And not always improve their time in vain.
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