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Holland repining, and in grief cast 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 Gauliavite;
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.

365

Henceforth be thine, Vicegerent of the skies! 370 Scorn'd worth to raise, and Vice in robes chastife, To dry the orphan's tears, and from the bar Chafe the brib'd judge, and hush the wordy war; Deny the curft 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; Miftaken zealots fhall with fear behold,

And beg admittance in our facred fold;

375

On her own works the pious queen shall smile, 380 And turn her cares upon her fav'rite ifle.

So the keen bolt a warriour 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:

385

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 fmile propitious on the world below,

Around thy throne shall faithful nobles wait; 390 Thefe guard the church and thofe direct the state. 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

395

To bend the ftubborn and the meek to win.
Our Oxford's Earl in careful thought shall stand
To raise his queen and fave a finking land. 399
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 Hefperian gold
The facred watch lay curl'd in many a fold;
His eyes uprearing to th' untafted prey
The fleepless guardian wafted life away.
Beneath the peaceful olives rais'd by you
Her ancient pride shall ev'ry art renew,

495

(The arts with you fam'd Harcourt shall defend, 410
And courtly Bolingbroke, the Mufe's friend.)
With piercing eye fome fearch where Natureplays,
And trace the wanton thro' her darkfome maze,
Whence health from herbs, from feeds how groves
How vital freams in circling eddies run;
Some teach why round the fun the spheres advance
In the fix'd meafures of their mystick dance;

[begun,

417

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

420

In happy chains our daring language bound
Shall port no more in arbitrary found,
But bufkin'd bards henceforth fhall wifely rage,
And Grecian plans reform Britannia's stage.
Till Congreve bids her smile Augusta stands,
And longs to weep when flowing Rowe commands.
Britain's Spectators fhall their strength combine 426
To mend our morals and our tafte refine,

Fight virtue's caufe, ftand up in wit's defence,
Win us from vice, and laugh us into fenfe.
Nor, Prior! haft thou hufh'd the trump in vain; 430
Thy lyre fhall now revive her mirthful ftrain;

New tales fhall now be told: if right I fee

Tre foul of Chaucer is reftor'd in thee.
Garth in majestick numbers to the ftars

Shall raife mock heroes and fantaftick wars.

435

Like the young spreading laurel, Pope! thy name
Shoots up with ftrength and rifes into fame.
With Philips fhall the peaceful vallies ring,
And Britain hear a fecond Spenfer sing.

441

That much lov'd youth whom Utrecht's walls confine
To Bristol's praifes fhall his Strafford's join:
He too from whom attentive Oxford draws
Rules for juft thinking and poetick laws,
To growing bards his learned aid fhall lend,

The Atricteft critick and the kindest friend.

445

Ev'n mine, a bashful Mufe, whofe rude effays
Scarce hope for pardon, not afpire to praise,
Cherifh'd by you in time may grow to fame,
And mine furvive with Bristol's glorious name.
Fir'd with the views this glitt'ring fcene difplays,
And fmit with paffion for my country's praife, 451
My artless reed attempts this lofty theme
Where facred Ifis rolls her ancient stream;
In cloifter'd domes the great Philippa's pride, [fide,
Where learning blooms while fame and worth
pre-
Where the fifth Henry arts and arms was taught, 456
And Edward form'd his Creffy yet unfought,
Where laurell'dbards have ftruck the warblingftrings,
The feat of fages and the nurse of kings.

Here thy commands, O Lancafter! inflame
My cager breaft to raise the British name,

460

Urge on my foul with no ignoble pride
To woo the Mufe whom Addison enjoy'd,

See that bold fwan to heav'n fublimely foar,
Purfue at diftance, and his fteps adore.

465

THE ROYAL PROGRESS.

WHEN Brunswick first appear'd each honest heart
Intent on verfe difdain'd the rules of art;
For him the fongfters in unmeafur'd odes
Debas'd Alcides and dethron'd the gods,

In golden chains the kings of India led,

Or rent the turban from the Sultan's head.
One in old fables and the Pagan ftrain

5

With nymphs and Tritons wafts him o'er the main; Another draws fierce Lucifer in arms,

And fills th' infernal region with alarms;

A third awakes fome Druid to foretel
Each future triumph from his dreary cell.
Exploded fancies! that in vain deceive,

ΙΟ

While the Mind naufeates what the cann't believe.. My Mufe th' expected hero fhall pursue

15

From clime to clime, and keep him ftill in view;
His fhining march defcribe in faithful lays,
Content to paint him; nor presume to praise:
Their charms, if charms they have, the truth fupplies,
And from the theme unlabour'd beauties rife.

20

By longing nations for the throne defign'd, And call'd to guard the rights of humankind, With fecret grief his godlike foul repines, And Britain's crown with joyless luftre shines, While pray'rs and tears his deftin'd progress stay, 25 And crowds of mourners choke their fov'reign's way. Not fo he march'd when hostile squadrons stood In fcenes of death and fir'd his gen'rous blood; When his hot courfer paw'd th' Hungarian plain, And adverfe legions stood the fhock in vain, 30 His frontiers past the Belgian bounds he views, And cross the level fields his march pursues:

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