Thus idly to review their native shore;
With not one glory sparkling in their eye,
One triumph on their tongue. A paffenger,
The violated merchant comes along;
That far-fought wealth, for which the noxious gale
He drew, and fweat beneath equator funs,
By lawless force detain'd; a force that foon
Would melt away, and every spoil refign,
Were once the British lion heard to roar.
Whence is it that the proud Iberian thus,
In their own well-afferted element,
Dares rouze to wrath the mafters of the main?
Who told him, that the big incumbent war
Would not, ere this, have roll'd his trembling ports
In fmoaky ruin? and his guilty ftores,
Won by the ravage of a butcher'd world,
Yet unaton'd, funk in the swallowing deep,
Or led the glittering prize into the Thames?
There was a time (oh, let my languid fons
Refume their spirit at the rouzing thought!)
When all the pride of Spain, in one dread fleet,
Swell'd o'er the labouring furge; like a whole heaven
Of clouds, wide-roll❜d before the boundless breeze.
Gaily the fplendid armament along
Exultant plough'd, reflecting a red gleam,
As funk the fun, o'er all the flaming Vaft;
Tall, gorgeous, and elate; drunk with the dream
Of eafy conqueft: while their bloated war,
Stretch'd out from sky to sky, the gather'd force
Of ages held in its capacious womb.
But foon, regardless of the cumberous pomp,
My dauntless Britons came, a gloomy few,
With tempeft black, the goodly scene deform'd,
And laid their glory waste. The bolts of Fate
Refiftlefs thunder'd through their yielding fides;
Fierce o'er their beauty blaz'd the lurid flame;
And feiz'd in horrid grasp, or shatter'd wide,
Amid the mighty waters deep they funk.
Then too from every promontory chill,
Rank fen, and cavern where the wild wave works,
I fwept confederate winds, and swell'd a storm.
Round the glad ifle, fnatch'd by the vengeful blast, 85
The scatter'd remnants drove; on the blind fhelve,
And pointed rock, that marks th' indented shore,
Relentless dash'd, where loud the northern main
Howls through the fractur'd Caledonian ifles.
Such were the dawnings of my watery reign; But fince how vaft it grew, how abfolute, Ev'n in those troubled times, when dreadful Blake Aw'd angry nations with the British name, Let every humbled ftate, let Europe say, Suftain'd, and balanc'd, by my naval arm. Ah, what must those immortal spirits think Of your poor shifts? Those, for their country's good Who fac'd the blackest danger, knew no fear, No mean fubmiffion, but commanded peace. Ah, how with indignation must they burn! (If aught, but joy, can touch etherial breasts With shame! with grief! to see their feeble fons Shrink from that empire o'er the conquer'd feas,
For which their wisdom plann'd, their councils glow'd,
And their veins bled through many a toiling age! 105
Oh, first of human bleffings! and fupreme!
Fair Peace! how lovely, how delightful thou!
By whofe wide tie, the kindred fons of men
Like brothers live, in amity combin'd,
And unfufpicious faith; while honest toil
Gives every joy, and to those joys a right,
Which idle, barbarous rapine but ufurps.
Pure is thy reign; when, unaccurs'd by blood,
Nought, fave the sweetness of indulgent fhowers,
Trickling diftils into the vernant glebe;
Instead of mangled carcaffes, fad-seen,
When the blithe fheaves lie fcatter'd o'er the fields
When only fhining shares, the crooked knife,
And hooks imprint the vegetable wound;
When the land blushes with the rofe alone,
The falling fruitage and the bleeding vine.
Oh, Peace! thou fource, and foul of social life;
Beneath whose calm infpiring influence,
Science his views enlarges, Art refines,
And fwelling Commerce opens all her ports;
Bleft be the man divine, who gives us thee !
Who bids the trumpet hush his horrid clang,
Nor blow the giddy nations into rage;
Who fheaths the murderous blade; the deadly gun
Into the well-pil'd armory returns ;
And, every vigour from the work of death,
To grateful industry converting, makes
The country flourish, and the city smile.
Unviolated, him the virgin fings:
And him the smiling mother to her train.
Of him the fhepherd, in the peaceful dale,
Chaunts; and, the treasures of his labour fure,
The husbandman of him, as at the plough,
Or team, he toils. With him the failor fooths,
Beneath the trembling moon, the midnight wave; 140
And the full city, warm, from street to street,
And fhop to shop, responsive, fings of him ;
Nor joys one land alone; his praise extends
Far as the fun rolls the diffufive day;
Far as the breeze can bear the gifts of peace,
Till all the happy nations catch the fong.
What would not, Peace! the patriot bear for thee?
What painful patience? what inceffant care?
What mixt anxiety? what fleepléss toil !
Ev'n from the rash protected what reproach ?
For he thy value knows; thy friendship he
To human nature: but the better thou,
The richer of delight, fometimes the more
Inevitable war; when ruffian force
Awakes the fury of an injur'd state.
Ev'n the good patient man, whom reafon rules,
Rouz'd by bold infult, and injurious rage,
With sharp and fudden check, th' astonish'd fons
Of violence confounds; firm as his cause
His bolder heart; in aweful juftice clad;
His eyes effulging a peculiar fire ;
And, as he charges through the proftrate war,
His keen arm teaches faithlefs men, no more
To dare the facred vengeance of the just.
And what, my thoughtless sons, should fire you more, Than when your well-earn'd empire of the deep
The leaft beginning injury receives!
What better cause can call your lightning forth?
Your thunder wake? your dearest life demand?
What better cause, than when your country fees
The fly destruction at her vitals aim'd?
For, oh, it much imports you, 'tis your all,
To keep your trade intire, intire the force,
And honour of your fleets: o'er that to watch,
Ev'n with a hand fevere, and jealous eye.
In intercourse be gentle, generous, just,
By wisdom polish'd, and of manners fair;
But on the fea be terrible, untam'd,
Unconquerable ftill; let none escape,
Who fhall but aim to touch your glory there.
Is there the man, into the lion's den
Who dares intrude, to fnatch his young away?
And is a Briton feiz'd? and feiz'd beneath
The flumbering terrors of a British fleet?
Then ardent rife! Oh, great in vengeance rife!
O'erturn the proud, teach rapine to restore:
And as you ride fublimely round the world,
Make
every veffel ftoop, make every ftate
At once their welfare and their duty know.
This is your glory; this your wisdom; this
The native power for which you were defign'd
By Fate, when Fate design'd the firmest state,
That e'er was feated on the subject sea;
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