A Pastoral Hymn to Janus, on the Birth of the Queen

To Janus, gentle shepherds! raise a shrine:
His honours be divine!
And as to mighty PAN with homage bow:
To him, the virgin troop shall tribute bring;
Let him be hail'd like the green-liveried spring,
Spite of the wint'ry storms that stain his brow.

The pride, the glowing pageantry of MAY,
Glides wantonly away:
But JANUARY, in his rough spun vest,
Boasts the full blessings that can never fade,
He that gave birth to the illustrious maid,
Whose beauties make the BRITISH MONARCH blest!

Could the soft spring with all her sunny showers,
The frolic nurse of flowers!
Or flaunting summer, flush'd in ripen'd pride,
Could they produce a finish'd sweet so rare:
Or from his golden stores, a gift so fair,
Say, has the fertile Autumn e'er supply'd?

Hence forward let the hoary month be gay
As the white-hawthorn'd MAY!
The laughing goddess of the spring disown'd,
HER rosy wreath shall on HIS brows appear,
Old JANUS as he leads, shall fill the year,
And the less fruitful AUTUMN be dethron'd.

Above the other months supremely blest,
Glad JANUS stands confest!
He can behold with retrospective face
The mighty blessings of the year gone by:
Where to connect a Monarch's nuptial tie,
Assembled ev'ry glory, ev'ry grace!

When he looks forward on the flatt'ring year,
The golden hours appear;
As in the sacred reign of Saturn, fair:
Britain shall prove from this propitious date,
Her honours perfect, victories compleat,
And boast the brightest hopes, a BRITISH HEIR.