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Let Britain's ships export an annual fleece,
Richer than Argos brought to ancient Greece,
Returning loaden with the shining stores
Which lie profuse on either India's shores.
As our high vessels pass their wat❜ry way,
Let all the naval world due homage pay;
With hasty rev'rence their top-honors lower,
Confessing the asserted pow'r,

To whom by Fate 'twas giv'n, with happy sway To calm the earth and vindicate the sea.

XXXVII.

Our pray'rs are heard; our master's fleets shall go
As far as winds can bear or waters flow,
New lands to make, new Indias to explore,
In worlds unknown to plant Britannia's pow'r;
Nations yet wild by precept to reclaim,

And teach 'em arms and arts in William's name..

XXXVIII.

With humble joy, and with respectful fear,
The list ning people shall his story hear;
The wounds he bore, the dangers he sustain'd,
How far he conquer'd, and how well he reign'd;
Shall own his mercy equal to his fame,
And form their children's accents to his name,
Inquiring how, and when, from Heav'n he came.
Their regal tyrants shall with blushes hide
Their little lusts of arbitrary pride,

Nor bear to see their vassals ty'd;

When William's virtues raise their op'ning thought, His forty years for public freedom fought,

Europe by his hand sustain'd,

His conquest by his piety restrain'd,

And o'er himself the last great triumph gain'd.

XXXIX.

No longer shall their wretched zeal adore

Idnas of destructive pow'r,

Spirits that hurt, and Godheads that devour:
New incense they shall bring, new altars raise,
And fill their temples with a stranger's praise;
When the great father's character they find
Visibly stampt upon the hero's mind,

And own a present Deity confest,

In valor that preserv'd, and pow'r that blest.

XL.

Thro' the large convex of the azure sky
(For thither Nature casts our common eye)
Fierce meteors shoot their arbitrary light,
And comets march, with lawless horror bright.
These hear no rule, no righteous order own,
Their influence dreaded, as their ways unknown;
Thro' threaten'd lands they wild destruction throw,
Till ardent pray'r averts the public woe :
But the bright orb that blesses all above,
The sacred fire, the real son of Jove,
Rules not his actions by capricious will,
Nor by ungovern'd pow'r declines to ill :
Fix'd by just laws he goes for ever right;
Man knows his course, and thence adores his light.

XLI.

O Janus! would entreated Fate conspire

To grant what Britain's wishes could require,

Above, that sun should cease his way to go,
Ere William cease to rule and bless below:
But a relentless destiny

Urges all that e'er was born :

Snatch'd from her arms, Britannia once must mourn
The demi-god; the earthly half must die.
Yet if our incense can your wrath remove,
If human pray'rs avail on minds above,
Exert, great God! thy int rest in the sky,
Gain each kind pow'r, each guardian Deity;
That, conquer'd by the public vow,
They bear the dismal mischief far away:
O! long as utmost Nature may allow,
Let them retard the threaten'd day:
Still be our master's life thy happy care:
Still let his blessings with his years increase;
To his laborious youth, consum'd in war,

Add lasting age, adorn'd and crown'd with peace :
Let twisted olives bind those laurels fast,
Whose verdure must for ever last.

XLII.

Long let this growing era bless his sway,
And let our sons his present rule obey;
On his sure virtue long let earth rely,
And late let the Imperial eagle fly,
To bear the hero thro' his father's sky,
To Leda's twins, or he whose glorious speed
On foot prevail'd, or he who tam'd the steed :
To Hercules at length, absolv'd by Fate
From earthly toil, and above envy great;

VOL. II.

To Virgil's theme, bright Cytherea's son,
Sire of the Latian and the British throne;
To all the radiant names above,

Rever'd by men, and dear to Jove;
Late, Janus, let the Nassau star,
New-born, in rising majesty appear,
To triumph over vanquish'd 'night,
And guide the prosp'rous mariner
With everlasting beams of friendly light.

CELIA TO DAMON.

Atque in amore mala hæc proprio summeque secundo
Inveniuntur-

LUCRET. Lib. IV. L. 1135.

WHAT can I say, what arguments can prove
My truth, what colors can describe my love,
If its excess and fury be not known
In what thy Celia has already done?

Thy infant flames whilst yet they were conceal'd
In tim'rous doubts, with pity I beheld;
With easy smiles dispell'd the silent fear,
That durst not tell me what I dy'd to hear.
In vain 1 strove to check my growing flame,
Or shelter passion under friendship's name;
You saw my heart how it my tongue bely'd,
And, when you press'd, how faintly I deny'd..

Ere guardian thought could bring its scatter'd aid,
Ere reason could support the doubting maid,
My soul, surpris'd, and from herself disjoin`d,
Left all reserve, and all the sex behind:
From your command her motions she receiv'd,
And not for me, but you, she breath'd and liv'd.
But ever blest be Cytherea's shrine,

And fires eternal on her altars shine!

Since thy dear breast has felt an equal wound,
Since in thy kindness my desires are crown'd.
By thy each look, and thought, and care 'tis shown,
Thy joys are center'd all in me alone;

And sure I am, thou wouldst not change this hour
For all the white ones Fate has in its pow'r-
Yet thus belov'd, thus loving to excess,
Yet thus receiving and returning bliss,
In this great moment, in this golden now,
When ev'ry trace of what, or when, or how,
Should from my soul by raging love be torn,
And far on swelling seas of rapture borne,
A melancholy tear afilicts my eye,
And my heart labors with a sudden sigh;
Invading fears repel my coward joy,
And ills foreseen the present bliss destroy.

Poor as it is, this beauty was the cause,
That with first sighs your panting bosom rose ;
But with no owner Beauty long will stay,
Upon the wings of Time borne swift away.
Pass but some fleeting years, and these poor eyes
(Where now without a boast some lustre lies)

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