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BRITANNIA.

A PO E M.

Et tantas audetis tollere moles?

"Quos ego-fed motos præftat componere fluctus. Poft mihi non fimili pœna commiffa luetis. "Maturate fugam, regique hæc dicite veftro : "Non illi imperium pelagi, fævumque tridentem, "Sed mihi forte datum❞—

S on the fea-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,

VIRG.

That hoarse, and hollow, from the bleak surge blew; § Loofe flow'd her treffes; rent her azure robe.

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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 difcontented nigh, departing, ftretch'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.

B

Ev n

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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 fhore;
Ev'n not the flattering view of golden days,
And rifing periods yet of bright renown,
Beneath the Parents, and their endless line
Through late revolving time, can footh my rage;
While, unchaftis'd, th' infulting Spaniard dares
Infeft the trading flood, full of vain war
Defpife my navies, and my merchants feize;
As, trusting to falfe peace, they fearless roam
The world of waters wild; made, by the toil,
And liberal blood of glorious ages, mine:
Nor burfts my fleeping thunder on their head.
Whence this unwonted patience? this weak doubt? 30
This tame befeeching 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 floth distemper'd, fwept off burning crowds,
For action ardent; and amid the deep,
Inglorious, funk them in a watery grave.

There now they lie beneath the rolling flood,
Far from their friends, and country unaveng'd;
And back the drooping war-fhip comes again,
Difpirited, and thin; her fons asham'd

* Frederick.

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Thus