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To dry the orphan's tears, and from the bar
Chase the brib'd judge, and kufa the wordy war ;
Deny the €urs'd blasphemer's tongue to rage,
And turn God's fury from an impious age.
Bleft change the soldier's late destroying hand
Shall rear new temples in his native land;
Mittaken zealots shall with fear behold,
And beg admittance in our sacred fold;
On her own works the pious Queen Pall smile,
And turn her cares upon her fav’rite ille.
So the keen bolt a warrior angel aims,
Array'd in clouds, and wrapt in mantling flames,
He bears a tempest on his sounding wings,
And his red arm the forky vengeance Aings ;
At length, heav'n's wrath appeas'd, he quits the war,
To roll his orb, and guide his destin'd star,
To fhed kind fate, and lucky hours bestow,
And smile propitious on the world below.
Around thy throne fall faithful nobles wait,
These guard the church, and those dire& the state,
TO BRISTOL, graceful in maternal tears,
The church her tow'ry forehead gently rears,
She begs her pious fon tallert her cause,
Defend her rights, and reinforce her laws,
With holy zeal the sacred work begin,
To bend the stubborn, and the meek to win.
Our OXFORD'S ? carl in careful thought shall stand,
To raise his Queen, and save å finking land.
The wealthiest 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 store with undefiring eyes.
So round the tree, that bore Hesperian gold,
The facred watch lay curl'd in many a fold,
His eyes up-rearing to th' untafted prey,
The sleepless 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, shall defend,
And courtly BOLINGBROKE, the Muse's friend)
With piercing eye some search where nature plays,
And trace the wanton through her darksome maze;
Whence health from herbs; from seeds how groves begun,
How vital Itreams in circling eddies run.
Some teach, why round the fun the spheres advance,
In the fix'd measures of their mystic dance :
How tides, when heav'd by presling moons, o’erflow,
And sun-born Iris paints her show'ry bow.
In happy chains our daring language bound,
Shall sport no more in arbitrary found,
But buskin'd bards henceforth fhall wisely rage,
And Grecian plans reform Britannia's stage:
+ Robert Harley, Earl of Oxford.
'Till Congreve bids her smile, Augufta ftands,
And longs to weep when flowing Rowe commands :
Britain's Spectators shall their strength combine,
To mend our morals, and our taste refine,
Fight virtue's cause, stand up in wit's defence,
Win us from vice, and laugh us into sense.
Nor, Prior, haft thou hush'd the trump in vain,
Thy lyre shall now revive her mirthful strain,
New tales shall now be told ; if right I see,
The soul of Chaucer is restor'd in thee.
Garth, in majestic numbers, to the stars
Shall raise mock-heroes, and fantastic wars ;
Like the young spreading laurel, Pope, thy name
Shoots up with strength, and rises into fame ;
With Philips u hall the peaceful vallies ring,
And Britain hear a second Spenser fing;
That much-lov'd youth”, whom Utrecht's walls confine,
To BRISTOL's praises shall his STRAFFORD's join :
He too, from whom attentive OXFORD draws
Rules for just thinking, and poetic laws,
To growing bards his learned aid shall send,
The strictest cricis, and the kindest friend.
u Ambrose Philips, author of Pastorals, the Distrest Mother, and two other tragedies, &c.
* William Harrison, Esq; at that time secretary to the embassy at Utrecht. See vol. 7.
Ev'n mine, a bashful Muse, whose rude effays
Scarce hope for pardon, not aspire to praise,
Cherish'd by you, in time may grow to fatne,
And mine survive with Bristol's glorious name.
Fir'd with the views this glitt'ring scene displays,
And smit with passion for my country's praise,
My artless reed attempts this lofty theme,
Where sacred Isis rolls her ancient stream;
In cloyster'd domes, the great Philippa's pride v,
Where learning blooms, while fame and worth preside,
Where the fifth Henry arts and arms was taught ?,
And Edward form'd his Crefly, yet unfought;
Where laureld bards have struck the warbling ftrings,
The seat of sages, and the nurse of kings.
Here thy commands, O Lancaster, inflame a
My eager breast to raise the British name ;
y Queen's College, Oxford, founded by Robert Egglesfield, on the encouragement of Philippa, Queen to Edward the Tbird.
? Both Henry the Fifth, and Edward the Black Prince, studied at Queen's College, Oxford. See Mr. Tickell's Poem on Queen Caroline's rebuilding their apartments. Jobuson's Prefaces to ibe Works of the English Poets.
* Dr. William Lancaster, Provost of Qucen's College, Oxford. He died in the year 1716. In another poem, M:, Tickell speaks of him in the following terms ;
“ Here Lancaster, adorn'd with every grace,
“ Stands chief in merit, as the chief in place :
Urge on my soul, with no ignoble pride,
To woo the Muse whom Addison enjoy'd ;
See that bold swan to heav'n sublimely foar,
Pursue at distance, and his steps adore.
F, dumb too long, the drooping Mufe hath staid,
And left her debt to Addison unpaid ;
« To his lov’d name our earliest lays belong,
“ The theme at once and patron of our song,
“ Long may be o'er his much-lov'd Queen's preside,
“ Our arts encourage, and our counsels guide,
« Till after ages, fillid with glad surprize,
“ Behold his image all majestic rise,
“ Where now in pomp a venerable band,
“ Princes, and queens, and holy fathers, stand.
Oxford, a Poem.-om Johnson's Prefaces to the Works
of the English Poets. a Who had married the Earl of Warwick's mother. Mr. Addison died 17th June 1719, and after lying in state in the Jerusalem Chamber,