XVII. While ftill fhe chid the coming fpring, XVIII. 'Tis chang'd; 'tis gone: fad Britain now Haftens her lord to foreign wars : Happy, if toils break his woe, may Or danger may divert his cares. XIX. In martial din fhe drowns her fighs, Go, mighty prince; let France be taught, Fierce in the battle. make it known, Where death with all his darts is feen, That he can touch thy heart with none, Belgia indulg'd her open grief, While yet her master was not near; With fullen pride refus'd relief, And fat obdurate in defpair. XXIII, As XXIII. As waters from her fluices, flow'd But when her anxious lord return'd, She fmiles, as William ne'er had mourn'd, That freedom which all forrows claim, Her piety itself would blame, If her regrets fhould weaken thine. To cure thy woe, the fhews thy fame: XXVII. William his country's caufe could fight, Maurice and Henry guard that right, How heroes rife, how patriots fet, Thy father's bloom and death may tell : XXIX. The XXIX, The laft fair inftance thou must give, Whence Naffau's virtue can be try'd ; And fhew the world, that thou canst live Intrepid, as thy confort dy'd; XXX. Thy virtue, whofe refiftlefs force For Britain's fake, for Belgia's, live : And bring them eafe, though thou haft none. Vanquish again; though the be gone, Fair Britain never yet before Breath'd to her king an ufelefs prayer : Fond Belgia never did implore, While William turn'd averfe his ear. But, fhould the weeping hero now G XXXV. Her Her face with thoufand beauties bleft, XXXVI. Yet ought his forrow to be checkt; She was inftructed to command, But oh! 'twas little, that her life Beyond where matter moves, or place From Mary's glory, angels trace Wife Fate, which does its heaven decree To heroes, when they yield their breath, Haftens thy triumph. Half of thee Is deify'd before thy death. XLI. Alone XLI. Alone to thy renown 'tis given, In IMITATION of ANACREON. LET them cenfure: what care The herd of critics I defy. Let the wretches know, I write, Bid the warbling Nine retire; Venus, ftring thy fervant's lyre: Love shall be my endless theme; Pleasure shall triumph over Fame: And, when these maxims I decline, Apollo, may thy fate be mine! May I grafp at empty praise; And lofe the nymph, to gain the bays! |