The University was founded by Queen Elizabeth, and by her and her successors largely endowed, and many munificent gifts and legacies since made by several other well-disposed persons, all whose names, together with their gifts, are read publicly in the Chapel every Trinity Sunday, in the afternoon, as a grateful acknowledgment to the memory of their benefactors; and on the 9th of January, 1693 (which completed a century from the Foundation of the College), they celebrated their first secular day, when the Provost, Dr. Ashe, now Bishop of Clogher, preached, and made a notable entertainment for the Lords Justices, Privy Council, Lord Mayor and Aldermen of Dublin. The sermon preached by the Provost was on the subject of the Foundation of the College, and his text was Matthew xxvi. 13: “Verily I say unto you, Wheresoever this Gospel shall be preached in the whole world, there shall also this, that this woman hath done, be told for a memorial of her;” which in this sermon the Provost applied to Queen Elizabeth, the Foundress of the College. The sermon was learned and ingenious, and afterwards printed by Mr. Ray, and dedicated to the Lords Justices, who at that time were the Lord Henry Capel, Sir Cyril Wiche, and William Duncomb, Esq. In the afternoon there were several orations in Latin spoke by the scholars in praise of Queen Elizabeth and the succeeding Princes, and an ode made by Mr. Tate (the Poet Laureate), who was bred up in this College. Part of the ode was as this following:-- Great Parent, hail! all hail to Thee; Who has the last distress surviv’d, To see this joyful day arriv’d; The Muses’ second Jubilee. Another century commencing, No decay in thee can trace; Time, with his own law dispensing, Adds new charms to every grace, That adorns thy youthful face. After War’s alarms repeated, And a circling age completed, Numerous offspring thou dost raise, Such as to Juverna’s praise Shall Liffey make as proud a name As that of Isis, or of Cam. Awful Matron, take thy seat To celebrate this festival; The learn’d Assembly well to treat, Blest Eliza’s days recall: The wonders of her reign recount, In strains that Phœbus may surmount. Songs for Phœbus to repeat. She ’twas that did at first inspire, And tune the mute Hibernian lyre. Succeeding Princes next recite; With never-dying verse requite Those favours they did shower. ’Tis this alone can do them right: To save them from Oblivion’s night, Is only in the Muse’s power. But chiefly recommend to Fame Maria, and great William’s name, Whose Isle to him her Freedom owes And surely no Hibernian Muse Can her Restorer’s praise refuse, While Boyne and Shannon flows.