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Thou Great First Caufe, least understood!
Who all my sense confin'd,
To know but this, that Thou art good,
And that myself am blind:

Yet gave me, in this dark estate,
To fee the good from ill;
And binding Nature fast in Fate,

Left free the human will.

What confcience dictates to be done,

Or warns me not to do:

This, teach me more than hell to fhun;
That, more than heav'n pursue.

What bleffings thy free bounty gives,
Let me not caft away :

For God is paid, when man receives ;
T'enjoy, is to obey.

Yet not to earth's contracted span
Thy goodnefs let me bound;
Or think thee Lord alone of man,

When thousand worlds are round:

Let

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Effe aliquam in terris gentem quæ fua impenfa, fuo labore ac periculo bella gerat pro libertate aliorum. Nec hoc finitimis, aut propinquæ vicinitatis hominibus, aut terris continenti junctis præftet. Maria trajiciat: ne quod toto orbe terrarum injuftum imperium fit, et ubique jus, fas, lex, potentiffima fint.

W

LIV. HIST. LIB. Xxxiii.

HILE crowds of princes your deferts proclaim,
Proud in their number to enrol your name;
While emperors to you commit their cause,
And Anna's praises crown the vast applause;
Accept, great Leader! what the Mufe recites,
That in ambitious verfe attempts your fights.
Fir'd and transported with a theme so new,
Ten thousand wonders, op'ning to my view,
Shine forth at once: fieges and storms appear,
And wars and conquefts fill th' important year;
Rivers of blood I fee, and hills of slain,
An Iliad rifing out of one Campaign.

The haughty Gaul beheld, with tow'ring pride,
His ancient bounds enlarg'd on ev'ry fide;

Pyrene's lofty barriers were subdu'd,

And in the midst of his wide empire stood.
Aufonia's ftates, the victor to restrain,

Oppos'd their Alps and Apennines in vain;

Nor found themselves, with strength of rocks immur'd,
Behind their everlafting hills fecur'd.

The rifing Danube it's long race began,

And half it's courfe thro' the new conquefts ran.

C

Amaz'd

Amaz'd and anxious for her fov'reigns fates,
Germania trembled thro' a hundred ftates.
Great Leopold himself was seiz'd with fear;
He gaz'd around, but faw no fuccour near:
He gaz'd; and half-abandon'd to despair
His hopes on Heav'n, and confidence in pray'r.

To Britain's queen the nations turn their eyes;
On her refolves the weftern world relies:
Confiding ftill, amidst it's dire alarms,

In Anna's councils and in Churchill's arms.
'Thrice happy Britain! from the kingdoms rent,
To fit the guardian of the continent!
That fees her bravest fon advanc'd fo high,
And flourishing fo near her prince's.eye.

Thy fav'rites grow not up by Fortune's fport,
Or from the crimes or follies of a court;
On the firm basis of defert they rife,

From long-try'd faith, and friendship's holy ties.
Their fov'reign's well-distinguish'd smiles they share,
Her ornaments in peace, her ftrength in war.
The nation thanks them with a publick voice;
By show'rs of bleffings, Heav'n approves their choice:
Envy itself is dumb, in wonder loft;

And factions ftrive who shall applaud 'em moft.

Soon as foft vernal breezes warm the sky,

Britannia's colours in the zephyrs fly :
Her chief already has his march begun,
Croffing the provinces himself had won;
Till the Mofelle, appearing from afar,
Retards the progrefs of the moving war.
Delightful ftream! had Nature bid her fall
In diftant climes, far from the perjur'd Gaul:
But now a purchase to the sword she lies;
Her harvefts for uncertain owners rife ;
Each vineyard doubtful of it's mafter grows,
And to the victor's bowl each vintage flows.

The

The discontented fhades of flaughter'd hofts,
That wander'd on her banks, her heroes ghofts,
Hop'd, when they faw Britannia's arms appear,
The vengeance due to their great deaths was near.
Our godlike leader, ere the ftream he pass'd,
The mighty scheme of all his labours caft ;
Forming the wond'rous year within his thought,
His bofom glow'd with battles yet unfought.
The long laborious march he firft furveys,
And joins the distant Danube to the Maefe;
Between whofe floods fuch pathlefs forests grow,
Such mountains rife, fo many rivers flow:
The toil looks lovely in the hero's eyes,
And danger ferves but to enhance the prize.
Big with the fate of Europe, he renews
His dreadful course, and the proud foe pursues.
Infected by the burning Scorpion's heat,
The fultry gales round his chaf'd temples heat;
Till on the borders of the Mayne he finds
Defenfive shadows and refreshing winds.
Our British youth, with inborn freedom bold,
Unnumber'd fcenes of fervitude behold;
Nations of flaves, with tyranny debas'd,
(Their Maker's image more than half defac'd ;)
Hourly instructed, as they urge their toil,
To prize their queen, and love their native foil.

Still to the rifing fun they take their way
Thro' clouds of duft, and gain upon the day:
When now the Neckar, on it's friendly coast,
With cooling ftreams revives the fainting hoft;
That chearfully his labours paft forgets,
The midnight watches and the noon-day heats.

O'er proftrate towns and palaces they pass,
(Now cover'd o'er with woods, and hid in grass)
Breathing revenge; whilft anger and disdain
Fire ev'ry breaft, and boil in ev'ry vein.
C 2

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