« ПредишнаНапред »
And with the blood of Jove there always ran › Some viler part, some tincture of the man.
Few virtues after these so far prevail,
But that their vices more than turn the scale :
Valour, grown wild by pride, and power by rage,
Did the true charms of majesty impair ;
Rome by degrees, advancing more in age,
Shew'd fad remains of what had once been fair;
Till Heaven a better race of men supplies;
And glory shoots new beams from western skies.
Turn then to Pharamond and Charlemain,
And the long heros of the Gallic strain ;
Experienc'd chiefs, for hardy prowefs known,
And bloody wreaths in venturous battles won.
From the first William, our great Norman king,
The bold Plantagenets and Tudors bring;
Illustrious virtues, who by turns have rose,
In foreign fields to check Britannia's foes;
With happy laws her empire to fuftain ; -
And with full power affert her ambient main.
But fometimes, too industrious to be great,
Nor patient to expect the turns of fate,
They open'd camps, deform'd by civil fight,
And made proud conqueft trample over right;
Difparted Britain mourn'd their doubtful sway,
And dreaded both,
From Didier and imperial Adolph trace The glorious offspring of the Naffau race, Devoted lives to public liberty;
The chief still dying, or the country
Then fee the kindred blood of Orange flow,
From warlike Cornet, through the loins of Beau;
Through Chalon next, and there with Naffau join,
From Rhone's fair banks transplanted to the Rhine.
Bring next the royal lift of Stuarts forth,
Undaunted minds, that rul'd the rugged north;
Till Heaven's decrees by ripening times are shown;
Till Scotland's kings afcend the English throne;
And the fair rivals live for ever one.
Be kind; and, as thy fearching eye
Does our modern story trace,
Finding fome of Stuart's race
Unhappy, pass their annals by:
No harsh reflection let remembrance raise :
Forbear to mention what thou canst not praise :
But, as thou dwell'ft upon that heavenly name
To grief for ever facred, as to fame,
Oh! read it to thyself; in filence weep;
And thy convulfive forrows inward keep;
Left Britain's grief fhould waken at the found,
And blood gush fresh from her eternal wound.
Whither wouldft thou further look?
Read William's acts, and clofe the ample book:
Perufe the wonders of his dawning life:
How, like Alcides, he began;
With infant patience calm'd feditious ftrife;
And quell'd the fnakes which round his cradle ran X.
Defcribe his youth, attentive to alarms,
By dangers form'd, and perfected in arms :
When conquering, mild; when conquer'd, not dif grac'd;
By wrongs not leffen'd, nor by triumphs rais'da
Superior to the blind events
Of little human accidents;
And conftant to his first decree,
To curb the proud, to fet the injur'& free;
To bow the haughty neck, and raise the fuppliant
His opening years to riper manhood brings
And fee the hero perfect in the king:
Imperious arms by manly reafon fway'd,
And power fupreme by free confent obey'd ;
With how much hafte his mercy meets his foes,
And how unbounded his forgiveness flows;
With what defire he makes his fubjects blefs'd,
His favours granted ere his throne addrefs'd:
What trophies o'er our captiv'd hearts he rears,
By arts of peace more potent, than by wars:
How o'er himself as o'er the world he reigns,
His morals ftrengthening what his law ordains.
Through all his thread of life already fpun,
Becoming grace and proper action run:
The piece by Virtue's equal hand is wrought,
Mixt with no crime, and fhaded with no fault;
No footsteps of the victor's rage
Left in the camp where William did engage :
No tincture of the monarch's pride
Upon the royal purple spy'd:
His fame, like gold, the more 'tis try'd,
The more fhall its intrinfic worth proclaim;
Shall pafs the combat of the fearching flame,
And triumph o'er the vanquish'd heat,
For ever coming out the fame,
And lofing nor its luftre nor its weight.
Janus, be to William juft;
To faithful History his actions trust :
Command her, with peculiar care
To trace each toil, and comment every war:
His faving wonders bid her write
In characters diftin&tly bright;
That each revolving age may read
The Patriot's piety, the Hero's deed :
And still the fire inculcate to his fon
Tranfmiffive leffons of the king's renowit;
That William's glory ftill may
When all that present art can give,
The pillar'd marble, and the tablet brafs,
Mouldering, drop the victor's praise :
When the great monuments of his power
Shall now be vifible no more:
When Sambre fhall have chang'd her winding flood
And children afk, where Namur stood.
Namur, proud city, how her towers were arm'd !
How the contemn'd th' approaching foe!
Till the by William's trumpets was alarm'd,
And fhook, and funk, and fell beneath his blow.
Jove and Pallas, mighty powers,
Guided the hero to the hoftile towers.
Perfeus feem'd lefs fwift in war,
When, wing'd with speed, he flew through air.
Embattled nations ftrive in vain
The Hero's glory to restrain:
Streams arm'd with rocks, and mountains red with fire, In vain against his force confpire.
Behold him from the dreadful height appear!
And lo! Britannia's lions waving there.
Europe freed, and France repell'd,
The Hero from the height beheld:
He fpake the word, that war and rage should ceafe ;
He bid the Maese and Rhine in fafety flow;
And dictated a lafting peace
To the rejoicing world below.
To refcued ftates, and vindicated crowns,
His equal hand prescrib'd their ancient bounds;