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The piece by Virtue's equal hand is wrought, 143
Mixed with no crime, and shaded with no fault.
No footsteps of the victor's rage
Left in the camp where William did engage;
No tincture of the monarch's pride
Upon the royal purple spied;
His fame, like gold, the more 'tis tried,
The more shall its intrinsic worth proclaim; 150
Shall pass the combat of the searching flame,
And triumph o'er the vanquished heat,
For ever coming out the same,
And losing not its lustre nor its weight.

Janus, be to William just; To faithful history his actions trust. Command her, with peculiar care To trace each toil, and comment every war; His saving wonders bid her write In characters distinctly bright; 160 That each revolving age may read The Patriot's piety, the Hero's deed; And still the sire inculcate to his son Transmissive lessons of the king's renown. That William's glory still may live, When all that present art can give, The pillared marble, and the tablet brass, Mouldering, drop the victor's praise; When the great monuments of his power Shall now be visible no more; 170 When Sambre shall have changed her winding flood; And children ask, where Namur stood.

Namur, proud city, how her towers were armed!
How she contemned the approaching foe;

Till she by William's trumpets was alarmed, 175
And shook, and sunk, and fell beneath his blow.
Jove and Pallas, mighty powers,
Guided the hero to the hostile towers.
Perseus seemed less swift in war,
When, winged with speed, he flew through air. 180
Embattled nations strive in vain
The hero's glory to restrain;
Streams armed with rocks, and mountains red with fire
In vain against his force conspire.
Behold him from the dreadful height appear,
And lo! Britannia's lions waving there!

Europe freed, and France repelled,

The hero from the height beheld: He spake the word, that war and rage should cease; He bid the Maese and Rhine in safety flow; 19t)

And dictated a lasting peace

To the rejoicing world below. To rescued states, and vindicated crowns, His equal hand prescribed their ancient bounds; Ordained, whom every province should obey; How far each monarch should extend his sway; Taught 'em how clemency made power revered; And that the prince beloved was truly feared. Firm by his side unspotted Honour stood, Pleased to confess him not so great as good; 200 His head with brighter beams fair Virtue decked, Than those which all his numerous crowns reflect: Established Freedom clapped her joyful wings, Proclaimed the first of men, and best of kings.

Whither would the Muse aspire
With Pindar's rage, without his fire?
H

Pardon me, Janus, 'twas a fault, 207 Created by too great a thought: Mindless of the god and day, I from thy altars, Janus, stray; From thee, and from myself, borne far away. The fiery Pegasus disdains To mind the rider's voice, or hear the reins: When glorious fields and opening camps he views; He runs with an unbounded loose: Hardly the Muse can sit the headstrong horse; Nor would she, if she could, check his impetuous force: With the glad noise the cliffs and valleys ring; While she through earth and air pursues the king.

She now beholds him on the Belgic shore, 220
Whilst Britain's tears his ready help implore;
Dissembling for her sake his rising cares,
And with wise silence pondering vengeful wars.
She through the raging ocean now
Views him advancing his auspicious prow;
Combating adverse winds and winter seas,
Sighing the moments that defer our ease;
Daring to wield the sceptre's dangerous weight,
And taking the command, to save the state;
Though ere the doubtful gift can be secured, 230
New wars must be sustained, new wounds endured.

Through rough Ierne's camps she sounds alarms,
And kingdoms yet to be redeemed by arms;
In the dank marshes finds her glorious theme;
And plunges after him through Boyne's fierce stream.
She bids the Nereids run with trembling haste,
To tell old Ocean how the Hero passed.
The god rebukes their fear, and owns the praise
Worthy that arm, whose empire he obeys.

Back to his Albion she delights to bring 240
The humblest victor, and the kindest king.
Albion with open triumph would receive
Her hero, nor obtains his leave;
Firm he rejects the altars she would raise;
And thanks the zeal, while he declines the praise.
Again she follows him through Belgia's land,
And countries often saved by William's hand;
Hears joyful nations bless those happy toils,
Which freed the people, but returned the spoils.
In various views she tries her constant theme, 250
Finds him in councils, and in arms the same;
When certain to o'ercome, inclined to save,
Tardy to vengeance, and with mercy brave.

Sudden another scene employs her sight;
She sets her hero in another light;
Paints his great mind superior to success,
Declining conquest, to establish peace;
She brings Astrea down to earth again,
And quiet, brooding o'er his future reign.

Then with unweary wing the goddess soars 260
East, over Danube and Propontis' shores;
Where jarring empires, ready to engage,
Retard their armies, and suspend their rage;
Till William's word, like that of Fate, declares,
If they shall study peace, or lengthen wars.
How sacred his renown for equal laws,
To whom the world defers its common cause!
How fair his friendships, and his leagues how just,
Whom every nation courts, whom all religions trust!

From the Maeotis to the Northern sea, 270 The goddess wings her desperate way;

See the young Muscovite, the mighty head, 272
Whose sovereign terror forty nations dread,
Enamoured with a greater monarch's praise,
And passing half the earth to his embrace;
She in his rule beholds his Volga's force,
O'er precipices with impetuous sway
Breaking, and as he rolls his rapid course,
Drowning, or bearing down, whatever meets his way.
But her own king she likens to his Thames, 280
With gentle course devolving fruitful streams;
Serene yet strong, majestic yet sedate,
Swift without violence, without terror great.
Each ardent nymph the rising current craves;
Each shepherd's prayer retards the parting waves;
The vales along the bank their sweets disclose;
Fresh flowers for ever rise: and fruitful harvest grows.

Yet whither would the adventurous goddess go!
Sees she not clouds, and earth, and main below;
Minds she the dangers of the Lycian coast, 290
And fields, where mad Bellerophon was lost 7
Or is her towering flight reclaimed,
By seas from Icarus's downfall named ?
Vain is the call, and useless the advice:
To wise persuasion deaf, and human cries,
Yet upwards she incessant flies;
Resolved to reach the high empyrean sphere,
And tell great Jove, she sings his image here;
To ask for William an Olympic crown,
To Chromius' strength and Theron's speed unknown:
Till, lost in trackless fields of shining day, 301
Unable to discern the way,
Which Nassau's virtue only could explore,

1 Peter the Great.

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