And leagued, a Briton's birth-right to restore, From John's reluctant grasp the roll of freedom bore. When lo, the king that wreathed his shield, With lilies pluck'd on Cressy's field, Heaved from its base the mouldering Norman frame! New glory clothed th' exulting steep, And valour's soften'd genius came, Here held his pomp, and trail'd the pall Of triumph through the trophied hall; And war was clad awhile in gorgeous weeds; Amid the martial pageantries, While beauty's glance adjudged the prize, And beam'd sweet influence on heroic deeds. Nor long, ere Henry's holy zeal, to breathe A milder charm upon the scenes beneath, Rear'd in the watery glade his classic shrine,' And call'd his stripling-choir to woo the willing Nine. To this imperial seat to lend Its pride supreme, and nobly blend British magnificence with Attic art; Proud castle, to thy banner'd bowers, Lo! picture bids her glowing powers Shed the dim blaze of radiance richly clear. Still such arts of peace engage Their patron's care! but should the rage Britain arise, and wake the slumbering fire, Or, arm'd to strike, in mercy spare the foe; And lift thy thundering hand, and then withhold the blow! DEAR Cloe, while the busy crowd, The vain, the wealthy, and the proud, In folly's maze advance; Though singularity and pride Be call'd our choice, we'll step aside, Nor join the giddy dance. From the gay world we'll oft retire Where love our hours employs ; If solid happiness we prize, And they are fools who roam; The world hath nothing to bestow, From our own selves our bliss must flow, And that dear hut our home. Of rest was Noah's dove bereft, That safe retreat, the ark; Giving her vain excursions o'er, The disappointed bird once more Explored the sacred bark. Though fools spurn Hymen's gentle powers, We, who improve his golden hours, By sweet experience know, That marriage, rightly understood, Gives to the tender and the good, A paradise below. Our babes shall richest comforts bring; If tutor'd right, they'll prove a spring Whence pleasures ever rise: We'll form their minds with studious care, To all that's manly, good, and fair, And train them for the skies. While they our wisest hours engage, They'll grow in virtue every day, And thus our fondest loves repay, And recompense our cares. No borrow'd joys! they're all our own, Or by the world forgot: Monarchs! we envy not your state, We look with pity on the great, And bless our humble lot. VOL. I. |