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Clos'd his eyes in endless night.
Behold where Dryden's less presumptuous car,
Wide o'er the fields of Glory bear
Two Coursers of ethereal race,
With necks in thunder cloath'd, and long resound-

ing pace.

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Hark, his hands the lyre explore!
Bright-eyed Fancy hovering o'er
Scatters from her pictur'd urn
Thoughts that breathe, and words that burn.
But ah! 'tis heard no more
Oh! Lyre divine, what daring spirit
Wakes thee now? tho he inherit
Nor the pride, nor ample pinion
That the Theban Eagle bear
Sailing with fupreme dominion

Thro' the azure deep of air:
Yet oft before his infant


would run Such forms, as glitter in the Muse's ray 'With orient hues, unborrow'd of the sun: Yet shall he mount, and keep his distant way Beyond the limits of a vulgar fate, Beneath the Good how far but far above the Great.

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Ich theile hier noch die neueste Ode dieses schon oben (H. III. S. 169 ff.) vorgekommenen Dichters mit. Sie wur: de durch die im vorigen Jahre an mehrern Orten in Eng: land sehr feierlich begangne hundertidhrige Gedichtnisfeier der bekannten großen Revolution veranlasst; und hat, bei manchen Schönheiten, besonders der lekten Strophen, doch wohl den hohen Grad der lyrischen Begeisterung nicht, den dieser Gegenstand erwecken und rechtfertigen konnte. Noch weniger ist dies der Fall in den Occasional Stanzas, die Herr bayley bei eben dieser Gelegenheit, auf Verlangen der Revolution-Society (chrieb, und bei ihrer Sekularfeier recitirte. Beide open sind im vorigen Jahre zu London eingeln, und sehr ansehnlich, gedruckt worden.

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It is not age, creative Fancy's foe,

Foe to the finer feelings of the soul, Shall dare forbid the lyric rapture flow,

'Scorning its chill controul. He, at the vernal morn of youth, Who breath’d, to liberty and truth,

Fresh incense from his votive lyre,
In live's autumnal eve, again

Shall, at their shrine, relume the strain,
And sweep the veteran chords with renovated fire.
Warm to his own, and to his country's breaft,

Twice fifty brilliant years the theme have borne,
And each, through all its varying seasons, blest
By that auspicious morn,

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Which gilding Nassau's patriot prow,
Gave Britain's anxious eye to know

The source whence now her blessings spring;
She saw him from that prow descend,

And in the hero hail'd the friend;
A name, when Britain speaks, that dignifies her


In folemn state she led him to the throne,

Whence bigot zeal and lawless power had Aed,
Where justice fix'd the abdicated crown

On his victorious head.
Was there an angel in the sky,
That glow'd not with celestial joy,

When Freedom, in her native charms
Descended from her throne of light,

On eagle plumes, to bless the rite,
Recallid by Britain's voice, restor'd by Naslau's


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Since then, triumphant on the car of Time,

The sister Years in gradual train have roll'd,
And seen the Goddess from her sphere sublime

The facred page unfold,
Inscrib'd by her's and Nassau's hands,
On which the hallow'd Charter stands,

That bids Britannia's sons be free;
And, as they pass’d, each white-rob'd year

Has sung to her responsive sphere,
Hail to the charter'd rights of British Liberty!
Still louder lift the soul-expanding strain,
Ye future years! while, from her starry thron

Again she comes to magnify her reign,

And make the world her own.
Her fire e'en France presumes to feel,
And half uns heaths the patriot steel,

Enough the monarch to dismay,
Whoe'er, with rebel pride, withdraws

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His own allegiance from the laws
That guard the People's rights, that reign the Sove-

reign's sway.


Hark! how from either India's sultry bound,

From regions girded by the burning Zone, Her all-attentive ear, with figh profound,

Has heard the captive moan; Has heard, and ardent in the cause Of all, that, free by Nature's laws,

The avarice of her sons enthralls;
She comes, by truth and mercy led,

And, bending her benignant head,
Thus on the seraph pair in suppliant strains she

calls :

, Long have I lent to my Britannia's hands

That trident which controuls the willing sea,
And bade her circulate to distant lands

Each bliss deriv'd from me.
Shall then her Commerce spread the fail
For gain accurs’d, and court the gale,

Her throne, her sov'reign to disgrace;
Daring (what will not Commerce dare!)

Beyond the ruthless waste of war,
To deal destruction, and thin the human race?

Proclaim it not before th' eternal throne

Of Him, the fire of universal love;
But wait till all my fons your influence own,

Ye envoys from above!
Owait, at this precarious hour,
When, in the pendent scale of power

My rights and Nature's trembling lye;
Do thou, sweet Mercy! touch the beam,

Till lightly, as the feather'd dream
Ascends the earthly dross of selfij h policy.

Do thou, fair Truth! as did thy Master mild,
Who, filld with all the power of Godhead,




To purify the souls, by guilt defild,

With Faith's celestial flame;
Tell them, 'tis Heaven's benign decree
That all, of Christian liberty

The peace-inspiring gale 1 hould breathe;
May then that nation hope to claim

The glory of the Christian name,
That loads fraternal tribes with bondage worle than


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Tell them, they vainly grace, with festive joy,

The day that freed them from Oppression's rod,
At Slavery's mart who barter, and who buy

The image of their God.
But peace! - their conscience feels the wrong;
From Britain's congregated tongue

Repentant breaks the choral lay:
Not unto us, indulgent Heav'n,

In partial stream, be Freedom given;
„But pour her treasures wide, and guard with legal



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