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Thus, the rude tempeft of the field o'er-blown,
Shall whiter rounds of smiling years roll on :
Our victors, bleft in peace, forget their wars,
Enjoy past dangers, and abfolve the stars.
But oh! what forrows fhall bedew your urns,

Ye honour'd shades, whom widow'd Albion mourns ?
If your thin forms yet discontented moan,

And haunt the mangled manfions once your own;
Behold what flow'rs the pious Muses ftrow,
And tears, which in the midft of triumph flow;
Cypress and bays your envy'd brows furround,
Your names the tender matron's heart shall wound,
And the soft maid grow penfive at the found.
Accept, great ANNE, the tears their mem❜ry draws
Who nobly perish'd in their fov'reign's caufe:
For thou in pity bid'st the war give o'er,
Mourn'ft thy flain heroes, nor wilt venture more.
Vaft price of blood on each victorious day!
(But Europe's freedom doth that price repay.)
Lamented triumphs! when one breath must tell
That Marlborough conquer'd, and that Dormer fell.
Great Queen! whofe name ftrikes haughty monarchs

On whofe juft fceptre hangs Europa's fcale;

Whose arm like mercy wounds, dec des like fate,

On whofe decree the nations anxiou wait;

[pale,

Lieut. Col. Dormer, killed at the head of his fquadron, at the battle

of Almanza, 14 April 1707.

From

From Albion's cliffs thy wide-extended hand
Shall o'er the main to far Peru command,
So vaft a tract whose wide domain fhall run,
Its circling fkies fhall fee no fetting fun.
Thee, thee an hundred languages fhall claim,
And favage Indians fwear by ANNA's name;
The line and poles fhall own thy rightful sway,
And thy commands the fever'd globe obey.

Round the vast ball thy new dominions chain The wat'ry kingdoms, and controul the main ; Magellan's ftreights to Gibraltar they join, Across the feas a formidable line;

The fight of adverse Gaul we fear no more,
But pleas'd fee Dunkirk, now a guiltless fhore.
In vain great Neptune tore the narrow ground,
And meant his waters for Britannia's bound;
Her giant Genius takes a mighty ftride,
And fets his foot beyond th' incroaching tide;
On either bank the land its master knows,
And in the midst the fubject ocean flows.

So near proud Rhodes, across the raging flood,
Stupendous form! the vaft Coloffus flood:
(While at one foot their thronging gallies ride,
A whole hour's fail scarce reach the farther fide)
Betwixt his brazen thighs, in loose array,
Ten thousand streamers on the billows play.
By HARLEY'S counfels Dunkirk now reflor'd
To Britain's empire, owns her ancient lord.

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In him transfus'd his godlike father reigns,
Rich in the blood which fwell'd that patriot's veins,
Who boldly faithful met his fov'reign's frown,
And fcorn'd for gold to yield th' important town.
His fon was born the ravish'd prey to claim,
And France ftill trembles at an Harley's name.
A fort fo dreadful to our English shore,

Our fleets fcarce fear'd the fand's or tempefts more;
Whose vast expences to fuch fums amount,

That the tax'd Gaul fcarce furnish'd out th' account:
Whofe walls fuch bulwarks, fuch vaft tow'rs refrain,
Its weakest ramparts are the rocks and main;
His boast great Louis yields, and cheaply buys
Thy friendship, ANNA, with the mighty prize.
Holland repining and in grief caft down,
Sees the new glories of the British crown ;
Ah! may they ne'er provoke thee to the fight,
Nor foes more dreadful than the Gauls invite!
Soon may they hold the olive, foon affuage
Their fecret murmurs, nor call forth thy rage,
To rend their banks, and pour, at one command,
Thy realm the fea o'er their precarious land!

Henceforth be thine, vice-gerent of the skies,
Scorn'd worth to raife, and vice in robes chastise;

Sir Edward Harley, father to the Earl of Oxford, had been governor of Dunkirk in the reign of Charles the IId, a poft from which he was removed juft before the delivery of that place to Lewis the XIVth, in the year 1662.

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To dry the orphan's tears, and from the bar
Chafe the brib'd judge, and hufh the wordy war;
Deny the ears'd blafphemer's tongue to rage,
And turn God's fury from an impious age.
Bleft change! the foldier's late destroying hand
Shall rear new temples in his native land;
Mistaken zealots fhall with fear behold,
And beg admittance in our facred fold;

On her own works the pious Queen shall smile,
And turn her cares upon her fav'rite isle.

So the keen bolt a warrior angel aims,
Array'd in clouds, and wrapt in mantling flames,
He bears a tempeft on his founding wings,
And his red arm the forky vengeance flings;

At length, heav'n's wrath appeas'd, he quits the war,
To roll his orb, and guide his deftin'd ftar,
To fhed kind fate, and lucky hours bestow,
And fmile propitious on the world below.
Around thy throne fhall faithful nobles wait,
These guard the church, and thofe direct the ftate,
To BRISTOL, graceful in maternal tears,
The church her tow'ry forehead gently rears,
She begs her pious fon t' affert her cause,
Defend her rights, and reinforce her laws,
With holy zeal the facred work begin,
To bend the ftubborn, and the meek to win.

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Our OXFORD's earl in careful thought fhall ftand,
To raise his Queen, and fave a finking land.

The wealthieft glebe to rav'nous Spaniards known
He marks, and makes the golden world our own :
Content with hands unfoil'd to guard the prize,
And keep the ftore with undefiring eyes.

So round the tree, that bore Hefperian gold,
The facred watch lay curl'd in many a fold,
His eyes up-rearing to th' untafted prey,
The fleepless guardian wafted life away.
Beneath the peaceful olives, rais'd by you,
Her ancient pride shall every art renew;

(The arts with you, fam'd HARCOURT, fhall defend,
And courtly BOLINGBROKE, the Mufe's friend)
With piercing eye some search where nature plays,
And trace the wanton through her darksome maze;
Whence health from herbs; from feeds how groves begun,
How vital ftreams in circling eddies run.

Some teach, why round the fun the fpheres advance,

In the fix'd measures of their myftic dance:

How tides, when heav'd by preffing moons, o'erflow,
And fun-born Iris paints her show'ry bow.

In happy chains our daring language bound,
Shall sport no more in arbitrary found,

But bufkin'd bards henceforth fhall wifely rage,
And Grecian plans reform Britannia's ftage:

Robert Harley, Earl of Oxford.

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