« ElőzőTovább »
As Egypt does not on the clouds rely,
Your never failing sword made war to cease, But to the Nile owes more than to the sky; And now you heal us with the acts of peace; So, what our Earth, and what our Heaven, denies, Our minds with bounty and with awe engage, Our ever-constant friend, the sea, supplies. Invite affection, and restrain our rage.
The taste of hot Arabia's spice we know,
Less pleasure take brave minds in battles won,
To dig for wealth, we weary not our limbs ;
|To pardon, willing, and to punish, loth,
Things of the noblest kind our own soil breeds; When Fate or error had our age misled,
Here the third Edward, and the Black Prince too, One! whose extraction from an ancient line
The noblest rest secured in your blood.
When for more worlds the Macedonian cried,
Oft have we wonder'd, how you hid in peace
He safely might old troops to battle lead,
Your private life did a just pattern give,
A race unconquer'd, by their clime made bold, But when your troubled country callid you forth, The Caledonians, arm'd with want and cold,
Your flaming courage and your matchless worth, Have, by a fate indulgent to your fame,
Dazzling the eyes of all that did pretend, Been from all ages kept for you to tame.
To fierce contention gave a prosperous end. Whom the old Roman wall, so ill confin'd, Still, as you rise, the state, exalted too, With a new chain of garrisons you bind :
Finds no distemper while 'tis changed by you ; Here foreign gold no more shall make them come; Chang'd like the world's great scene! when withou Our English iron holds them fast at home.
The rising sun night's vulgar lights destroys. They, that henceforth must be content to know No warmer region than their hills of snow,
Had you, some ages past, this race of glory May blame the sun; but must extol your grace,
| Run, with amazement we should read your story : Which in our senate hath allow'd them place.
But living virtue, all achievements past,
Meets envy still, to grapple with at last.
This Cæsar found ; and that ungrateful age,
With losing him, went back to blood and rage;
Mistaken Brutus thought to break their yoke, Their vanquish'd foes free citizens of Rome.
But cut the bond of union with that stroke. Like favor find the Irish, with like fate
That sun once set, a thousand meaner stars Advanc'd to be a portion of our state ;
Gave a dim light to violence and wars ; While by your valor, and your bounteous mind,
To such a tempest as now threatens all, Nations divided by the sea are join'd.
Did not your mighty arm prevent the fall. Holland, to gain your friendship, is content If Rome's great senate could not wield that sword To be our out-guard on the continent:
Which of the conquer'd world had made them lord : She from her fellow-provinces would go,
What hope had ours, while yet their power was new, Rather than hazard to have you her foe.
To rule victorious armies, but by you ?
In our late fight, when cannons did diffuse,
You! that had taught them to subdue their foes, Could order teach, and their high spirits compose | To every duty could their minds engage, Provoke their courage, and command their rage
So, when a lion shakes his dreadful mane,
Verse, thus design'd, has no ill fate,
As the ver'd world, to find repose, at last
THE STORY OF
Then let the Muses, with such notes as these,
PHBUS AND DAPHNE
Thyrsis, a youth of the inspired train,
Fair Sacharissa lov’d, but lov'd in vain : Tell of towns storm'd, of armies over-run,
Like Phoebus sung the no less amorous boy; And mighty kingdoms by your conduct won;
Like Daphne she, as lovely, and as coy! How, while you thunder'd, clouds of dust did choke With numbers he the flying nymph pursues ; Contending troops, and seas lay hid in smoke.
With numbers, such as Phæbus' self might use !
Such is the chase, when Love and Fancy leads, Illustrious acts high raptures do infuse,
O'er craggy mountains, and through flowery meads; And every conqueror creates a Muse:
Invok'd to testify the lover's care, Here in low strains your milder deeds we sing :
Or form some image of his cruel fair. But there, my lord! we'll bays and olive bring
Urg'd with his fury, like a wounded deer,
O'er these he fled; and now, approaching near, To crown your head, while you in triumph ride
Had reach'd the nymph with his harmonious lay,
All, but the nymph that should redress his wrong,
He catch'd at love, and fillid his arms with bays.