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50

Thus idly to review their native shore;
With not one glory sparkling in their eye,

45
One triumph on their tongue. A passenger,
The violated merchant comes along ;
That far-fought wealth, for which the noxious gale
He drew, and sweat beneath equator suns,
By lawless force detain'd; a force that foon
Would melt away, and every spoil resign,
Were once the British lion heard to roar.
Whence is it that the proud Iberian thus,
In their own well-asserted element,
Dares rouze to wrath the masters of the main ?

55 Who told him, that the big incumbent war Would not, ere this, have roll'd his trembling ports In smoaky ruin ? and his guilty stores, Won by the ravage of a butcher'd world, Yet unaton'd, sunk in the swallowing deep, 60 Or led the glittering prize into the Thames ?

There was a time (oh, let my languid fons Resume their spirit at the rouzing thought!) When all the pride of Spain, in one dread fleet, Swell’d o'er the labouring surge; like a whole heaven Of clouds, wide-roll'd before the boundless breeze. Gaily the splendid armament along Exultant plough'd, reflecting a red gleam, As sunk the sun, o'er all the flaming Vast; Tall, gorgeous, and elate; drunk with the dream

70 Of easy conquest: while their bloated war, Stretch'd out from sky to sky, the gather'd force Of ages held in its capacious womb.

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But foon, regardless of the cumberous pomp,
My dauntless Britons came, a gloomy few, 75
With tempest black, the goodly scene deforin'd,
And laid their glory waste. The bolts of Fate
Refiftlefs thunder'd through their yielding fides ;
Fierce o'er their beauty blaz'd the lurid flame;
And seiz'd in horrid grasp, or shatter'd wide, So
Amid the mighty waters deep they funk.
Then too from every promontory chill,
Rank fen, and cavern where the wild wave works,
I swept confederate winds, and swell'd a storm.
Round the glad ifle, snatch'd by the vengeful blast, 85
The scatter'd remnants drove; on the blind shelve,
And pointed rock, that marks th' indented shore,
Relentless dash'd, where loud the northern main
Howls through the fractur'd Caledonian ifles.

Such were the dawnings of my watery reign;
But since how vast it grew, how absolute,
Ev'n in those troubled times, when dreadful Blake
Aw'd angry nations with the British name,
Let every humbled state, let Europe say,
Sustain'd, and balanc'd, by my naval arm.

95
Ah, what must those immortal spirits think
Of your poor shifts ? Those, for their country's good
Who fac'd the blackest danger, knew no fear,
No mean submiffion, but commanded peace.
Ah, how with indignation must they burn!
(If aught, but joy, can touch etherial breasts
With shame! with grief ! to see their feeble fons
Shrink from that empire o'er the conquer'd seas,

90

100

For

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For which their wisdom plann'd, their councils glow'd,
And their veins bled through many a toiling age! '105

Oh, first of human blessings ! and fupreme!
Fair Peace ! how lovely, how delightful thou!
By whose wide tie, the kindred fons of men
Like brothers live, in amity combin'd,
And unsuspicious faith; while honest toil
Gives every joy, and to those joys a right,
Which idle, barbarous rapine but usurps.
Pure is thy reign ; when, unaccurs’d by blood,
Nought, fave the sweetness of indulgent showers,
Trickling distils into the vernant glebe ;

ITS
Instead of mangled carcaffes, fad-seen,
When the blithe sheaves lie scatter'd o'er the fields
When only shining shares, the crooked knife,
And hooks imprint the vegetable wound;
When the land blushes with the rose alone,
The falling fruitage and the bleeding vine.
Oh, Peace! thou fource, and soul of social life;
Beneath whose calm inspiring influence,
Science his views enlarges, Art refines,
And swelling Commerce opens all her ports ; 125
Bleft be the man divine, who gives us thee !
Who bids the trumpet hush his horrid clang,
Nor blow the giddy nations into rage ;
Who Theaths the murderous blade; the deadly gun
Into the well-pil'd armory returns ;
And, every vigour from the work of death,
To grateful industry converting, makes
The country flourish, and the city smile.

BS

Unviolated,

120

130

But foon, regardless of the cumberous pomp,
My dauntless Britons came, a gloomy few, 75
With tempest black, the goodly scene deformid,
And laid their glory waste. The bolts of Fate
Refiftless thunder'd through their yielding fides ;
Fierce o'er their beauty blaz'd the lurid flame;
And feiz'd in horrid grasp, or shatter'd wide, So
Amid the mighty waters deep they funk.
Then too from every promontory chill,
Rank fen, and cavern where the wild wave works,
I swept confederate winds, and swell'd a form.
Round the glad ifle, snatch'd by the vengeful blast, 85
The scatter'd remnants drove; on the blind shelve,
And pointed rock, that marks th' indented shore,
Relentless dash'd, where loud the northern main
Howls through the fractur'd Caledonian ifles,

Such were the dawnings of my watery reign;
But since how vast it grew, how absolute,
Ev'n in those troubled times, when dreadful Blake
Aw'd angry nations with the British name,
Let every humbled ftate, let Europe say,
Suftain'd, and balanc'd, by my naval arm.

95
Ah, what must those immortal spirits think
Of your poor shifts ? Those, for their country's good
Who fac'd the blackest danger, knew no fear,
No mean submiffion, but commanded peace.
Ah, how with indignation muft they burn!
(If aught, but joy, can touch etherial breasts
With shame! with grief! to see their feeble fons
Shrink from that empire o'er the conquer'd seas,

90

100

For

IIO

For which their wisdom plann'd, their councils glowid,
And their veins bled through many a toiling age! 105

Oh, first of human blessings ! and fupreme !
Fair Peace! how lovely, how delightful thou !
By whose wide tie, the kindred fons of men
Like brothers live, in amity combin'd,
And unsuspicious faith ; while honest toil
Gives every joy, and to those joys a right,
Which idle, barbarous rapine but usurps.
Pure is thy reign ; when, unaccurs'd by blood,
Nought, fave the sweetness of indulgent showers,
Trickling distils into the vernant glebe ;

I15
Instead of mangled carcasses, fad-seen,
When the blithe sheaves lie scatter'd o'er the fields
When only shining shares, the crooked knife,
And hooks imprint the vegetable wound;
When the land blushes with the rose alone,
The falling fruitage and the bleeding vine.
Oh, Peace! thou fource, and soul of social life;
Beneath whose calm inspiring influence,
Science his views enlarges, Art refines,
And swelling Commerce opens all her ports; 135
Bleft be the man divine, who gives us thee !
Who bids the trumpet hush his horrid clang,
Nor blow the giddy nations into rage ;
Who sheaths the murderous blade; the deadly gun
Into the well-pild armory returns ;

130 And, every vigour from the work of death, To grateful industry converting, makes The country flourish, and the city smile.

B 3

Unviolated,

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