BLess Heavens, and say; Our Wishes and our Prayers,
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Have peirc'd the Skies, and now th' Almighty squares
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Out luckie Omens, to our blooming Hopes.
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With Child, and Quick! The very words even dropes
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Us Peace, and Bliss. Go fond-prophetick Feares,
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Of idle, or more wishful Pates; Lo here Heaven reares
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Fresh Props (and seasonablie) for the Throne
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Let the Disquieters of CHARLES begone,
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Since JAME'S Young-Hanse may Rebels think upon
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Then Factious-Buzlers, fear the Time may come,
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When th' Unseen-Blew-Cap pays your Treasons home:
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For who will needs the Uncle still Disturb,
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May find a Nephew, who their Oy's may Curb.
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Mean while GREAT PRINCESS, may the happy Babe
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Breathe, Live, and Grow, within the secret Shade,
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Of Your sweet Royal Self, until Your Wombe,
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Shall bless the present Age, with [?] come.
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And that Old SCOTLAND may (as twice before)
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A Monarch Nurse for Britain yet once more,
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Let Scotsmen Pray, the Fruit Dame Nature brings,
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May prove a Man, to this their Land of Kings:
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Howe're, Wee'll Joy; For who this year's a Mother
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Unto a Lass, may bear a Lad the other.
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