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B R I T A N N I A.

Τ Ν NI

Α Ρ ο Ε
A P E

M.

Et tantas audetis tollere moles ? “ Quos ego-sed motos præftat componere fluctus. “ Poft mihi non simili pæna commissa luetis. Maturate fugam, regique hæc dicite vestro : “ Non illi imperium pelagi, fævumque tridentem, Sed mihi forte datuin"

VIRG.

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S on the sea-beat shore Britannia fat,

Of her degenerate fons the faded fame, Deep in her anxious heart, revolving fad: Bare was her throbbing bosom to the gale, That hoarfe, and hollow, from the bleak furge blew : 5 Loose flow'd her tresses; rent her azure robe. Hung o’er the deep from her majestic brow She tore the laurel, and the tore the bay. Nor ceas'd the copious grief to bathe her cheek; Nor ceas'd her fobs to murmur to the main. Peace discontented nigh, departing, stretch'd Her dove-like wings. And War, though greatly rouz’d, Yet mourns his fetter'd hands. While thus the queen Of nations spoke; and what she said the Muse Recorded, faithful, in unbidden verfe. VOL. II,

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Ev’n not yon fail, that, from the sky-mixt wave,
Dawns on the fight, and wafts the Royal Youth *
A freight of future glory to my shore;
Ev’n not the flattering view of golden days,
And rising periods yet of bright renown,
Beneath the Parents, and their endless line
Through late revolving time, can sooth my rage;
While, unchastis'd, th' insulting Spaniard dares
Infest the trading flood, full of vain war
Despise my navies, and iny merchants seize ;

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As, trusting to false peace, they fearless roam
The world of waters wild ; made, by the toil,
And liberal blood of glorious ages, mine :
Nor bursts my sleeping thunder on their head.
Whence this unwonted patience? this weak doubt ? 30
This tame beseeching of rejected peace ?
This meek forbearance this unnative fear,
To generous Britons never known before ?
And fail'd my fleets for this; on Indian tides
To float, unactive, with the veering winds ?
The mockery of war! while hot disease,
And sloth diftemper'd, swept off burning crowds,
For action ardent; and amid the deep,
Inglorious, sunk them in a watery grave.
There now they lie beneath the rolling flood,

40 Far from their friends, and country unaveng'd; And back the drooping war-lhip comes again, Dispirited, and thin; her sons afham'd

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* Frederick.

Thus

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