The complete works, poetry and prose, of the Rev. Edward Young prefixed, a life of the author, by John Doran ... With eight illustrations on steel, and a portrait. In two volumes

Fast by the surge my limbs are spread;
The naval oak nods o'er my head:
The winds are loud; the waves tumultuous roll.
Ye winds! indulge your rage no more;
Ye sounding billows! cease to roar:
The god descends, and transports warm my soul.

2

The waves are hush'd; the winds are spent:—
This kingdom, from the kingdoms rent,
I celebrate in song.—Famed isle! no less
By Nature's favour from mankind,
Than by the foaming sea, disjoin'd;
Alone in bliss, an isle in happiness!

3

Though Fate and Time have damp'd my strains,
Though youth no longer fires my veins,
Though slow their streams in this cold climate run,
The royal eye dispels my cares,
Recalls the warmth of blooming years;
Returning George supplies the distant sun.

4

Away, my soul! salute the “Pine”
That glads the heart of Caroline,
Its grand deposit faithful to restore;
Salute the bark that ne'er shall hold
So rich a freight in gems or gold,
And, loaded from both Indies, would be poor.

5

My soul! to thee she spreads her sails:
Their bosoms fill with sacred gales,
With inspiration from the godhead warm;
Now bound for an eternal clime,
O send her down the tide of Time,
Snatch'd from oblivion, and secure from storm!

6

Or teach this flag like that to soar
Which gods of old and heroes bore;
Bid her a British constellation rise—
The sea she scorns, and now shall bound
On lofty billows of sweet sound;
I am her pilot, and her port the skies!

7

Dare you to sing, ye tinkling train?
Silence, ye wretched, ye profane,
Who shackle prose, and boast of absent gods;
Who murder thought, and numbers maim;
Who write Pindarics cold and lame,
And labour stiff Anacreontic Odes!

8

Ye lawful sons of genius, rise,
Of genuine title to the skies!
Ye founts of learning, and ye mints of fame!
You who file off the mortal part
Of glowing thought with Attic art,
And drink pure song from Cam's or Isis' stream.

9

I glow, I burn! The numbers pure,
High-flavour'd, delicate, mature,
Spontaneous stream from my unlabour'd breast;
As, when full-ripen'd teems the vine,
The generous bursts of willing wine
Distil nectareous from the grape unpress'd.

The vessel that brought over the king.

STRAIN THE FIRST.

THE ARGUMENT.

How the king attended.—A prospect of happiness.—Industry. A surprising instance of it in Old Rome.—The mischief of sloth.—What happiness is. Sloth its greatest enemy.—Trade natural to Britain. Trade invoked: described.—What the greatest human excellence.— The praise of wealth. Its use, abuse, end.—The variety of nature The final moral cause of it.—The benefit of man's necessities.—Britain's naval stores. She makes all nature serviceable to her ends.— Of reason. Its excellence.—How we should form our estimate of things.—Reason's difficult task. Why the first glory hers. Her effects in Old Britain.

1

“Our monarch comes! nor comes alone!”
What shining forms surround his throne,
O Sun, as planets thee!—To my loud strain
See Peace, by Wisdom led, advance;
The Grace, the Muse, the Season, dance;
And Plenty spreads behind her flowing train!

2

“Our monarch comes! nor comes alone!”
New glories kindle round his throne;
The visions rise; I triumph as I gaze:
By Pindar led, I turn'd of late
The volume dark, the folds of Fate,
And now am present to the future blaze.

3

By George and Jove it is decreed,
The mighty months in pomp proceed,
Fair daughters of the sun.—O thou Divine,
Bless'd Industry! a smiling earth
From thee alone derives its birth:
By thee the ploughshare and its master shine.

4

From thee mast, cable, anchor, oar,
From thee the cannon and his roar;
On oaks nursed, rear'd by thee, wealth, empire grows:
O golden fruit! oak well might prove
The sacred tree, the tree of Jove;
All Jove can give, the naval oak bestows.

5

What cannot Industry complete?
When Punic war first flamed, the great,
Bold, active, ardent Roman fathers meet:
“Fell all your groves!” a Flamen cries;
As soon they fall, as soon they rise;
One moon a forest, and the next a fleet.

6

Is sloth indulgence? 'Tis a toil;
Enervates man, and damns the soil;
Defeats creation, plunges in distress,
Cankers our being, all devours.
A full exertion of our powers,—
Thence, and thence only, glows our happiness.

7

The stream may stagnate, yet be clear;
The sun suspend his swift career,
Yet healthy Nature feel her wonted force;
Ere man, his active springs resign'd,
Can rust in body and in mind,
Yet taste of bliss, of which he chokes the source.

8

Where, Industry, thy daughter fair?
Recall her to her native air:
Here was Trade born, here bred, here flourish'd long;
And ever shall she flourish here.
What, though she languish'd? 'twas but fear:
She's sound of heart, her constitution strong.

9

Wake, sting her up!—Trade! lean no more
On thy fix'd anchor; push from shore:
Earth lies before thee; every climate court.
And see, she's roused, absolved from fears,
Her brow in cloudless azure rears,
Spreads all her sail, and opens every port.

10

See, cherish'd by her sister, Peace,
She levies gain on every place,
Religion, habit, custom, tongue, and name.
Again she travels with the sun,
Again she draws a golden zone
Round earth and main,—bright zone of wealth and fame!

11

Ten thousand active hands—that hung
In shameful sloth, with nerves unstrung,
The nation's languid load—defy the storms,
The sheets unfurl, and anchors weigh,
The long-moor'd vessel wing to sea;
Worlds, worlds salute, and peopled ocean swarms.

12

His sons, Po, Ganges, Danube, Nile,
Their sedgy foreheads lift, and smile;
Their urns inverted prodigally pour
Streams charged with wealth, and vow to buy
Britannia for their great ally
With climes paid down: what can the gods do more?

13

Cold Russia costly furs from far,
Hot China sends her painted jar,
France generous wines to crown it: Arab sweet
With gales of incense swells our sails;
Nor distant Ind our merchant fails,
Her richest ore the ballast of our fleet.

14

Luxuriant isle! what tide that flows,
Or stream that glides, or wind that blows,
Or genial sun that shines, or shower that pours,
But flows, glides, breathes, shines, pours for thee?
How every heart dilates to see
Each land's each season blending on thy shores!

15

All these one British harvest make!
The servant Ocean for thy sake
Both sinks and swells: his arms thy bosom wrap,
And fondly give, in boundless dower
To mighty George's growing power,
The wafted world into thy loaded lap.

16

Commerce brings riches; riches crown
Fair Virtue with the first renown.
A large revenue, and a large expense,
When hearts for others' welfare glow,
And spend as free as gods bestow,
Gives the full bloom to mortal excellence.

17

Glow, then, my breast; abound, my store!
This, and this boldly, I implore;
Their want and apathy let Stoics boast.
Passions and riches, good or ill,
As used by man, demand our skill;
All blessings wound us, when discretion's lost.

18

Wealth, in the virtuous and the wise,
'Tis vice and folly to despise:
Let those in praise of poverty refine
Whose heads or hearts pervert its use,
The narrow-soul'd or the profuse:
The truly great find morals in the mine.

19

Happy the man who, large of heart,
Has learnt the rare, illustrious art
Of being rich: stores starve us, or they cloy,
From gold if more than chymic skill
Extract not what is brighter still:
'Tis hard to gain, much harder to enjoy.

20

Plenty's a means, and joy her end:
Exalted minds their joys extend:
A Chandos shines, when others' joys are done;
As lofty turrets, by their height,
When humbler scenes resign their light,
Retain the rays of the declining sun.

21

Pregnant with blessings, Britain! swear,
No sordid son of thine shall dare
Offend the Donor of thy wealth and peace,
Who now His whole creation drains,
To pour into thy tumid veins
That blood of nations,—Commerce and Increase.

22

How various Nature! Turgid grain
Here nodding floats the golden plain;
There worms weave silken webs: here glowing vines
Lay forth their purple to the sun;
Beneath the soil there harvests run,
And kings' revenues ripen in the mines.

23

What's various Nature? Art Divine.
Man's soul to soften and refine,
Heaven different growths to different lands imparts,
That all may stand in need of all,
And interest draw around the ball
A net to catch and join all human hearts.

24

Thus has the great Creator's pen
His law supreme to mortal men
In their necessities distinctly writ:
Even Appetite supplies the place
Of absent Virtue, absent Grace;
And human Want performs for human Wit.

25

Vast naval ensigns strew'd around
The wondering foreigner confound!
How stands the deep-awed continent aghast,
As her proud sceptred sons survey,
At every port, on every quay,
Huge mountains rise of cable, anchor, mast!

26

The' unwieldy tun, the ponderous bale!—
Each prince his own clime set to sale
Sees here, by subjects of a British king.
How earth's abridged! All nations range
A narrow spot,—our throng'd Exchange;
And send the streams of plenty from their spring.

27

Nor Earth alone, all Nature bends
In aid to Britain's glorious ends.
Toils she in trade, or bleeds in honest wars?
Her keel each yielding sea enthralls,
Each willing wind her canvass calls,
Her pilot into service lists the stars.

28

In size confined, and humbly made,
What, though we creep beneath the shade,
And seem as emmets on this point, the ball?
Heaven lighted up the human soul,
Heaven bid its rays transpierce the whole,
And, giving godlike Reason, gave us all.

29

Thou golden chain 'twixt God and men,
Bless'd Reason! guide my life and pen:
All ills, like ghosts, fly trembling at thy light.
Who thee obeys, reigns over all;
Smiles, though the stars around him fall:
A God is nought but Reason Infinite.

30

The man of Reason is a god
Who scorns to stoop to Fortune's nod;
Sole agent he beneath the shining sphere.
Others are passive, are impell'd,
Are frighten'd, flatter'd, sunk, or swell'd,
As Accident is pleased to domineer.

31

Our hopes and fears are much to blame:
Shall monarchs awe, or crowns inflame?
From gross mistake our idle tumult springs.
Those men the silly world disarm,
Elude the dart, dissolve the charm,
Who know the slender worth of men and things.

32

The present object, present day,
Are idle phantoms, and away;
What's lasting only does exist. Know this,—
Life, fame, friends, freedom, empire, all,
Peace, commerce, freedom, nobly fall
To launch us on the flood of endless bliss.

33

How foreign these, though most in view!
Go, look you whole existence through;
Thence form your rule; thence fix your estimate;
For so the gods. But, as the gains,
How great the toil! 'Twill cost more pains
To vanquish folly than reduce a state.

34

Hence, Reason, the first palm is thine:
Old Britain learnt from thee to shine.
By thee Trade's swarming throng, gay Freedom's smile,
Armies,—in war, of fatal frown;
Of Peace the pride,—Arts, flowing down,
Enrich, exalt, defend, instruct our isle.

STRAIN THE SECOND.

THE ARGUMENT.

Arts from commerce. Why Britons should pursue it.—What wealth includes.—An historical digression, which kind is most frequent in Pindar.—The wealth and wonderful glory of Tyre. The approach of her ruin. The cause of it. Her crimes through all ranks and orders. Her miserable fall. The neighbouring kings' just reflection on it. An awful image of the Divine power and vengeance. From what Tyre fell, and how deep her calamity.

1

Commerce gives Arts, as well as gain:
By Commerce wafted o'er the main,
They barbarous climes enlighten as they run.
Arts, the rich traffic of the soul,
May travel thus from pole to pole,
And gild the world with Learning's brighter sun.

2

Commerce gives learning, virtue, gold:
Ply Commerce, then, ye Britons bold,
Inured to winds and seas; lest gods repent,
The gods that throned you in the wave,
And, as the trident's emblem, gave
A triple realm, that awes the continent;

3

And awes with wealth; for wealth is power:
When Jove descends a golden shower,
'Tis navies, armies, empire, all in one.—
View, emulate, outshine old Tyre,
In scarlet robed, with gems on fire,
Her merchants princes, every deck a throne.

4

She sate an empress, awed the flood,
Her stable column, ocean, trod;
She call'd the nations, and she call'd the seas,
By both obey'd: the Syrian sings;
The Cyprian's art her viol strings;
Togarmah's steed along her valley neighs.

5

The fir of Senir makes her floor,
And Bashan's oak, transform'd, her oar;
High Lebanon, her mast; far Dedan warms
Her mantled host; Arabia feeds;
Her sail of purple Egypt spreads;
Arvad sends mariners; the Persian, arms.

6

The world's last limit bounds her fame;
“The Golden City” was her name!
Those stars on earth, the topaz, onyx, blaze
Beneath her foot. Extent of coast,
And rich as Nile's, let others boast;
Hers the far nobler harvest of the seas.

7

O merchant-land, as Eden fair!
Ancient of empires! Nature's care!
The strength of ocean! head of Plenty's springs!
The pride of isles! in wars revered!
Mother of crafts! loved, courted, fear'd!
Pilot of kingdoms, and support of kings!

8

Great mart of nations!—But she fell:
Her pamper'd sons revolt, rebel;
Against his favourite isle loud roars the main;
The tempest howls: her sculptured dome,
Soon the wolf's refuge, dragon's home;
The land one altar,—a whole people slain!

9

The destined Day puts-on her frown;
The sable Hour is coming down;
She's on her march from yon almighty throne:
The sword and storm are in her hand;
She trumpets shrill her dread command:
“Dark be the light of earth, the boast unknown!”

10

For, O! her sins, as red as blood,
As crimson deep, outcry the flood;
The Queen of Trade is bought! Once wise and just,
Now venal is her council's tongue:
How riot, violence, and wrong
Turn gold to dross, her blossom into dust!

11

To things inglorious, far beneath
Those high-born souls they proudly breathe,
Her sordid noble sinks, her mighty bow!
Is it for this the groves around
Return the tabret's sprightly sound?
Is it for this her great ones toss the brow?

12

What burning feuds 'twixt brothers reign!
To nuptials cold, how glows the vein,
Confounding kindred, and misleading right!
The spurious lord it o'er the land:
Bold Blasphemy dares make a stand,
Assault the sky, and brandish all her might.

13

Tyre's artisan, sweet orator,
Her merchant, sage, big man of war,
Her judge, her prophet, nay, her hoary heads,
Whose brows with wisdom should be crown'd,
Her very priests, in guilt abound:
Hence the world's cedar all her honours sheds.

14

What dearth of truth! what thirst of gold!
Chiefs warm in peace, in battle cold!
What youth unletter'd! base ones lifted high!
What public boasts! what private views!
What desert temples, crowded stews!
What women!—practised but to roll an eye!

15

O foul of heart! her fairest dames
Decline the sun's intruding beams,
To mad the midnight in their gloomy haunts.
Alas! there is who sees them there;
There is who flatters not the fair,
When cymbals tinkle, and the virgin chants.

16

He sees, and thunders!—Now in vain
The courser paws, and foams the rein;
And chariots stream along the printed soil:
In vain her high presumptuous air,
In gorgeous vestments rich and rare,
O'er her proud shoulder throws the poor man's toil.

17

In robes or gems, her costly stain,
Green, scarlet, azure, shine in vain;
In vain their golden heads her turrets rear:
In vain high-flavour'd foreign fruits,
Sidonian oils, and Lydian lutes,
Glide o'er her tongue, and melt upon her ear.

18

In vain wines flow in various streams,
With helm and spear each pillar gleams;
Damascus vain unfolds the glossy store;
The golden wedge from Ophir's coasts,
From Arab incense, vain she boasts;
Vain are her gods, and vainly men adore.

19

Bel falls, the mighty Nebo bends!
The nations hiss; her glory ends!
To ships, her confidence, she flies from foes.
Foes meet her there: the wind, the wave,
That once aid, strength, and grandeur gave,
Plunge her in seas, from which her glory rose.

20

Her ivory deck, embroider'd sail,
And mast of cedar nought avail,
Or pilot learn'd. She sinks; nor sinks alone;
Her gods sink with her! To the sky,
Which never more shall meet her eye,
She sends her soul out in one dreadful groan.

21

What, though so vast her naval might,
In her first dawn'd the British right,—
All flags abased her sea-dominion greet?
What, though she longer warr'd than Troy?
At length her foes that isle destroy,
Whose conquest sail'd as far as sail'd her fleet.

22

The kings she clothed in purple shake
Their awful brows: “O foul mistake!
O fatal pride!” they cry: “This, this is she
Who said, ‘With my own art and arm
In the world's wealth I wrap me warm;’
And swell'd at heart, vain empress of the sea!

23

“This, this is she who meanly soar'd,
Alas, how low! to be adored,
And style herself a god!—Through stormy wars
This eagle-isle her thunder bore,
High fed her young with human gore,
And would have built her nest among the stars.

24

“But ah, frail man how impotent
To stand Heaven's vengeance or prevent,
To turn aside the great Creator's aim!
Shall island-kings with Him contend,
Who makes the poles beneath Him bend,
And shall drink up the sea herself with flame?

25

“Earth, ether, empyræum bow,
When from the brasen mountain's brow
The God of Battles takes His mighty bow,
Of wrath prepares to pour the flood.
Puts-on His vesture dipp'd in blood,
And marches out to scourge the world below.

26

“Ah wretched isle, once call'd the great!
Ah wretched isle, and wise too late!
The vengeance of Jehovah is gone out:
Thy luxury, corruption, pride,
And freedom lost, the realms deride;
Adored thee standing, o'er thy ruins shout:

27

“To scourge with war, or peace bestow,
Was thine, O fallen, fallen low!
'Twas thine, of jarring thrones to still debates.
How art thou fallen, down, down, down!
Wide Waste, and Night, and Horror frown,
Where Empire flamed in gold, and balanced states.”

STRAIN THE THIRD

THE ARGUMENT.

An inference from this history. Advice to Britain. More proper to her than other nations.—How far the stroke of tyranny reaches. What supports our endeavours. The unconsidered benefits of liberty. Britain's obligation to pursue trade.—Why above half the globe is sea.— Britain's grandeur from her situation.—The winds, the seas, the constellations, described.—Sir Isaac Newton's praise.—Britain compared with other states. The leviathan described. Britain's site, and ancient title to the seas. Who rivals her. Of Venice. Holland. —Some despise trade as mean. Censured for it. Trade's glory.— The late czar. Solomon.—A surprising instance of magnificence. The merchant's dignity. Compared with men of letters.

1

Hence learn, as hearts are foul or pure,
Our fortunes wither or endure:
Nations may thrive, or perish, by the wave.
What storms from Jove's unwilling frown
A people's crimes solicit down!
Ocean's the womb of riches, and the grave.

2

This truth, O Britain! ponder well:
Virtues should rise, as fortunes swell.
What is large property? The sign of good,
Of worth superior: if 'tis less,
Another's treasure we possess,
And charge the gods with favours misbestow'd.

3

This counsel suits Britannia's isle,
High-flush'd with wealth, and Freedom's smile:
To vassals prison'd in the continent,
Who starve at home on meagre toil,
And suck to death their mother-soil,
'Twere useless caution and a truth mis-spent.

4

Fell tyrants strike beyond the bone,
And wound the soul; bow Genius down,
Lay Virtue waste. For worth or arts who strain,
To throw them at a monster's foot?
'Tis property supports pursuit:
Freedom gives eloquence, and Freedom gain.

5

She pours the thought, and forms the style;
She makes the blood and spirits boil;
I feel her now, and rouse, and rise, and rave
In Theban song:—O Muse! not thine,
Verse is gay Freedom's gift divine:
The man that can think greatly is no slave.

6

Others may traffic if they please;
Britain, fair daughter of the seas,
Is born for trade, to plough her field, the wave,
And reap the growth of every coast:
A speck of land; but let her boast,
“Gods gave the world, when they the waters gave.”

7

Britain! behold the world's wide face;
Nor cover'd half with solid space;
Three parts are fluid, empire of the sea!
And why? For commerce. Ocean streams
For that, through all his various names:
And if for commerce, Ocean flows for thee.

8

Britain, like some great potentate
Of eastern clime, retires in state,
Shuts out the nations. Would a prince draw nigh?
He passes her strong guards, the waves,
Of servant winds admission craves:
Her empire has no neighbour but the sky.

9

There are her friends; soft Zephyr there,
Keen Eurus, Notus never fair,
Rough Boreas, bursting from the pole: all urge,
And urge for her, their various toil,
The Caspian, the broad Baltic boil,
And into life the dead Pacific scourge.

10

There are her friends; a marshall'd train,
A golden host and azure plain,
By turns do duty, and by turns retreat:
They may retreat, but not from her;
The star that quits this hemisphere
Must quit the skies, to want a British fleet.

11

Hyad, for her, leans o'er her urn;
For her, Orion's glories burn,
The Pleiads gleam. For Britons set and rise
The fair-faced sons of Mazzaroth,
Near the deep chambers of the south,
The raging Dog that fires the midnight skies.

12

These nations Newton made his own,
All intimate with him alone:
His mighty soul did, like a giant, run
To the vast volume's closing star,
Decipher'd every character:
His reason pour'd new light upon the sun.

13

Let the proud brothers of the land
Smile at our rock and barren strand;
Not such the sea: let Fohé's ancient line
Vast tracts and ample beings vaunt;
The camel low, small elephant—
O Britain! the leviathan is thine.

14

Leviathan! whom Nature's strife
Brought forth, her largest piece of life;
He sleeps an isle; his sports the billows warm!
Dreadful leviathan! thy spout
Invades the skies; the stars are out:
He drinks a river, and ejects a storm.

15

The' Atlantic surge around our shore,
German, and Caledonian, roar;
Their mighty genii hold us in their lap.
Hear Egbert, Edgar, Ethelred:
“The seas are ours:”—the monarch said,—
The floods their hands, their hands the nations, clap.

16

Whence is a rival, then, to rise?
Can he be found beneath the skies?
No; there they dwell that can give Britain fear:

The powers of earth by rival aim
Her grandeur but the more proclaim,
And prove their distance most as they draw near.

17

Proud Venice sits amid the waves,
Her foot ambitious Ocean laves,
Art's noblest boast: but, O what wondrous odds
'Twixt Venice and Britannia's isle,
'Twixt mortal and immortal toil!
Britannia is a Venice built by gods.

18

Let Holland triumph o'er her foes,
But not o'er friends by whom she rose,
The child of Britain! And shall she contend?
It were no less than parricide.—
What wonders rise from out the tide!
Her “High and Mighty” to the rudder bend.

19

And are there, then, of lofty brow,
Who think trade mean, and scorn to bow
So far beneath the state of noble birth?
Alas! these chiefs but little know
Commerce how high, themselves how low:
The sons of nobles are the sons of earth.

20

And what have earth's mean sons to do,
But reap her fruits, and warm pursue
The world's chief good, not glut on others' toil?
High Commerce from the gods came down,
With compass, chart, and starry crown,
Their delegate, to make the nations smile.

21

Blush, and behold the Russian bow,
From forty crowns, his mighty brow
To trade! To toil he turns his glorious hand:
That arm which swept the bloody field,
See the huge axe or hammer wield;
While sceptres wait, and thrones impatient stand.

22

O shame to subjects! first renown,
Matchless example to the crown!
Old Time is poor: what age boasts such a sight?
Ye drones, adore the man divine—
No; Virtue still as “mean” decline,
Call Russians barbarous, and yourselves polite.

23

He, too, of Judah, great as wise,
With Hiram strove in merchandise;
Monarchs with monarchs struggle for an oar!
That merchant sinking to his grave,
A flood of treasure swells the cave:
The king left much, the merchant buried more.

24

Is “merchant” an inglorious name?
No; fit for Pindar such a theme;
Too great for me; I pant beneath the weight.
If loud as Ocean's were my voice,
If words and thoughts to court my choice
Out-number'd sands, I could not reach its height.

25

Merchants o'er proudest heroes reign;
Those trade in blessing, these in pain,
At slaughter swell, and shout while nations groan.
With purple monarchs merchants vie;
If great to spend, what to supply?
Priests pray for blessings; merchants pour them down.

26

Kings merchants are in league and love;
Earth's odours pay soft airs above,
That o'er the teeming field prolific range.
Planets are merchants; take, return,
Lustre and heat; by traffic burn:
The whole creation is one vast Exchange.

27

Is “merchant” an inglorious name?
What say the sons of letter'd fame,
Proud of their volumes, swelling in their cells?
In open life, in change of scene,
Mid various manners, throngs of men,
Experience, Arts, and solid Wisdom dwells.

28

Trade, Art's mechanic, Nature's stores
Well weighs; to starry Science soars;
Reads warm in life (dead colour'd by the pen)
The sites, tongues, interests of the ball:
Who studies trade, he studies all;
Accomplish'd merchants are accomplished men.

Vast treasure taken from Solomon's tomb thirteen hundred years after his death.

STRAIN THE FOURTH.

THE ARGUMENT.

Pindar invoked. His praise.—Britain should decline war, but boldly assert her trade. Encouraged from the throne. Britain's condition without trade.—Trade's character and surprising deeds.—Carthage.— Solomon's temple.—St. Paul's Church.—The miser's character.—The wonderful effects of trade.—Why religion recommended to the merchant. —What false joy. What true.—What religion is to the merchant. —Why trade more glorious in Britons than others. How warmly, and how long, to be pursued by us. The Briton's legacy.— Columbus. His praise.—America described.—Worlds still unknown.— Queen Elizabeth.—King George II. His glory navally represented.

1

How shall I farther rouse the soul?
How Sloth's lascivious reign control
By verse, with unextinguish'd ardour wrought?
How every breast inflame with mine?
How bid my theme still brighter shine
With wealth of words and unexhausted thought?

2

O thou Dircæan swan, on high,
Round whom familiar thunders fly,
While Jove attends a language like his own!
Thy spirit pour, like vernal showers;
My verse shall burst out with the flowers,
While Britain's trade advances with her sun.

3

Though Britain was not born to fear,
Grasp not at bloody fame from war;
Nor war decline, if thrones your right invade.
Jove gathers tempest black as night;
Jove pours the golden flood of light;
Let Britain thunder, or let Britain trade.

4

Britain a comet, or a star,
In commerce this, or that in war:
Let Britons shout, earth, seas, and skies resound.
Commerce to kindle, raise, preserve,
And spirit dart through every nerve,
Hear from the throne a voice through time renown'd.

5

So fall from heaven the vernal showers,
To cheer the glebe, and wake the flowers;
The bloom call'd forth sees azure skies display'd;
The bird of voice is proud to sing;
Industrious bees ply every wing,
Distend their cells, and urge their golden trade.

6

Trade once extinguish'd, Britain's sun
Is gone out too; his race is run;
He shines in vain; her isle's an isle indeed,
A spot too small to be o'ercome.
Ah dreadful safety, wretched doom!
No foe will conquer what no foe can feed.

7

Trade's the source, sinew, soul of all;
Trade's all herself; hers, hers, the ball;
Where most unseen, the goddess still is there:
Trade leads the dance, Trade lights the blaze;
The courtier's pomp, the student's ease!
'Twas Trade at Blenheim fought, and closed the war.

8

What Rome and all her gods defies?
The Punic oar. Behold it rise
And battle for the world! Trade gave the call:
Rich cordials from his naval art
Sent the strong spirits to his heart,
That bid an Afric merchant grasp the ball.

9

Where is, on earth, Jehovah's home?
Trade mark'd the soil, and built the dome,
In which His Majesty first deign'd to dwell;
The walls with silver sheets o'erlaid,
Rich, as the sun, through gold unweigh'd;
Bent the moon'd arch, and bid the column swell.

10

Grandeur unknown to Solomon!
Methinks the labouring earth should groan
Beneath yon load; created, sure, not made!
Servant and rival of the skies!
Heaven's arch alone can higher rise:
What hand immortal raised thee? “Humble Trade.”

11

Where hadst thou been if, left at large,
Those sinewy arms that tugg'd the barge,
Had caught at pleasure on the flowery green?
If they that watch'd the midnight star
Had swung behind the rolling car,
Or fill'd it with disgrace, where hadst thou been?

12

As by repletion men consume,
Abundance is the miser's doom;
Expend it nobly: he that lets it rust,
Which, passing numerous hands, would shine,
Is not a man, but living mine,
Foe to the gods, and rival to the dust.

13

Trade barbarous lands can polish fair,
Make earth well worth the wise man's care;
Call forth her forests, charm them into fleets;
Can make one house of human race;
Can bid the distant poles embrace;
Hers every sun, and India India meets.

14

Trade monarchs crowns, and arts imports,
With bounty feeds, with laurel courts:
Trade gives fair Virtue fairer still to shine;
Enacts those guards of gain, the Laws;
Exalts e'en Freedom's glorious cause.—
Trade! warn'd by Tyre, O make Religion thine!

15

You lend each other mutual aid:
Why is Heaven's smile in wealth convey'd?
Not to place vice, but virtues, in our power.
Pleasure declined is luxury,
Boundless in time and in degree;
Pleasure enjoy'd, the tumult of an hour.

16

False joy's a discomposing thing,
That jars on Nature's trembling string,
Tempests the spirits, and untunes the frame:
True joy, the sunshine of the soul,
A bright serene that calms the whole;
Which they ne'er knew, whom other joys inflame.

17

Merchant! religion is the care
To grow as rich—as angels are;
To know false coin from true; to sweep the main;
The mighty stake secure, beyond
The strongest tie of field or fund:
Commerce gives gold, religion makes it gain.

18

Join, then, religion to thy store,
Or India's mines will make thee poor.
Greater than Tyre, O bear a nobler mind,
Sea-sovereign isle! Proud War decline,
Trade patronize: what glory thine,
Ardent to bless, who couldst subdue, mankind!

19

Rich commerce ply with warmth Divine
By day, by night: the stars are thine;
Wear out the stars in trade! Eternal run,
From age to age, the noble glow,
A rage to gain, and to bestow,
While ages last: in trade burn out the sun!

20

Trade, Britain's all, our sires sent down
With toil, blood, treasure, ages won:
This Edgar great bequeath'd; this, Edward bold.
Let Frobishers, let Raleighs fire!
O let Columbus' shade inspire!
New worlds disclose, with Drake surround an old.

21

Columbus! scarce inferior fame
For thee to find, than Heaven to frame,
That womb of gold and gem: her wide domain
An universe, her rivers seas;
Her fruits, both men and gods to please;
Heaven's fairest birth, and, but for thee, in vain!

22

Worlds still unknown deep shadows wrap:
Call wonders forth from Nature's lap;
New glory pour on her Eternal Sire.
O noble search! O glorious care!
Are ye not Britons? Why despair?
New worlds are due to such a godlike fire.

23

Swear by the great Eliza's soul,
That Trade, as long as waters roll—
Ah! no; the gods chastise my rash decree:

By great Eliza do not swear;
For thee, O George, the gods declare,
And thou for them! Late time shall swear by thee.

24

Truth, bright as stars, with thee prevails;
Full be thy fame, as swelling sails;
Constant as tides thy mind, as masts elate;
Thy justice, an unerring helm
To steer Britannia's fickle realm;
Thy numerous race, sure anchor of her state!

The king's speech, January 13th, 1729–30.

St. Paul's, built by the produce of the coal-tax; as were forty-nine other churches and the Monument. St. Paul's alone was raised at the expense of £736,752. 2s. 3½d.

Sir Walter Raleigh.

STRAIN THE FIFTH.

THE ARGUMENT.

What is the bound of Britain's power. Beyond that of the most famed in history.—The sign Lyra.—What the constellations are. Argo. The Whale. The Dolphin. Eridanus. The Lion. Libra. Virgo. Berenice.—The British ladies censured.—The moon.—What the sea is.—Apostrophe to the emperor. The Spanish Armada.—How Britain should speak her resentment.—What gives power. What navies do in war.—The Tartar.—Mogul.—Africa.—China.—Who master of the world.—What the history of the world is.—The genealogy of glory. Mistakes about it.—Peace the merchant's harvest.—Ships of Divine origin.—Merchants ambassadors.—The Briton's voyage.—Praise the food of glory.—Britain's record.

1

Britannia's state what bounds confine?
(Of rising thought O golden mine!)
Mountains, Alps, streams, gulfs, oceans, set no bound:
She sallies till she strikes the star;
Expanding wide, and launching far
As wind can fly, or rolling wave resound.

2

Small isle—for Cæsars; for the son
Of Jove, who burst from Macedon;
For gorgeous easterns blazing o'er mankind!
Then, when they call'd the world their own,
Not equal fame from fable shone:
They rose to gods, in half thy sphere confined.

3

Here no demand for Fancy's wing;
Plain Truth's illustrious: as I sing,
O hear yon spangled harp repeat my lay!
Yon starry lyre has caught the sound,
And spreads it to the planets round,
Who best can tell where ends Britannia's sway.

4

The skies (fair-printed page!) unfold
The naval fame of heroes old;
As in a mirror, show the' adventurous throng:
The deeds of Grecian mariners
Are read by gods, are writ in stars,
And noble verse that shall endure as long.

5

The skies are records of the main:
Thence Argo listens to my strain;
Chiron, for song renown'd, his noble rage
For naval fame and song renews,
As Britain's fame he hears and views;
Chiron, the Shovel of a former age.

6

The Whale (for late I sung his praise)
Pours grateful lustre on my lays:
How smiles Arion's friend with partial beams!
Eridanus would flatter, too,
But jealousies his smile subdue;
He fears a British rival in the Thames.

7

In pride the Lion lifts his mane,
To see his British brothers reign
As stars below: the Balance, George! from thine,
Which weighs the nations, learns to weigh
More accurate the night and day;
From thy fair daughters Virgo learns to shine.

8

Of Britain's court ye lesser lights!
How could the wise-man gaze whole nights
On Richmond's eye, on Berenice's Hair!
But, O! you practise shameful arts;
Your own retain, seize others' hearts:
Pirates, not merchants, are the British fair.

9

This truth I swear by Cynthia's beam.
Pale queen! be flush'd at Britain's fame;
And, rolling, tell the nations—o'er the main
To share her empire is thy pride.
He, mighty Power! who curbs the tide,
Uncurbs, extends, throws wide Britannia's reign.

10

What is the main, ye kings renown'd?
Britannia's centre, and your bound:
Austrian! where'er leviathan can roll,
Is Britain's home; and Britain's mine,
Where'er the ripening sun can shine:
Parts are for emperors; for her, the whole.

11

Why, Austrian, wilt thou hover still
On doubtful wing, and want the skill
To see thy welfare in the world's? Too late
Another Churchill thou mayst find,
Another Churchill, not so kind,
And other Blenheims, big with other fate.

12

Ill thou remember'st, ill dost own,
Who rescued an ungrateful throne;
Ill thou consider'st that the kind are brave;
Ill dost thou weigh that in Time's womb
A day may sleep, a day of doom,
As great to ruin as was that to save.

13

How wouldst thou smile to hear my strain,
Whose boasted inspiration's vain!
Yet what, if my prediction should prove true?
Know'st thou the fatal pair who shine
O'er Britain's trading empire? Thine,
As one rejected, what, if one subdue?

14

What naval scene adorns the seat
Of awful Britain's high debate,
Inspires her counsels, and records her power?
The nations know, in glowing balls
On sinking thrones the tempest falls,
When her august assembled senates lour.

15

O language fit for thoughts so bold!
Would Britain have her anger told,
Ah! never let a meaner language sound
Than that which prostrates human souls,
Through heaven's dark vault impetuous rolls,
And Nature rocks, when angry Jove has frown'd.

16

Not realms unbounded, not a flood
Of natives, not expense of blood,
Or reach of counsel, gives the world a lord:

Trade calls him forth, and sets him high
As mortal man o'er men can fly:
Trade leaves poor gleanings to the keenest sword.

17

Nay, hers the sword! For fleets have wings;
Like lightning fly to distant kings;
Like gods descend at once on trembling states.
Is war proclaim'd? Our wars are hurl'd
To farthest confines of the world,
Surprise your ports, and thunder at your gates.

18

The king of tempests, Æolus,
Sends forth his pinion'd people thus
On rapid errands: as they fly, they roar,
And carry sable clouds, and sweep
The land, the desert, and the deep:
Earth shakes, proud cities fall, and thrones adore!

19

The fools of nature ever strike
On bare outsides; and loathe, or like,
As glitter bids; in endless error vie;
Admire the purple and the crown.
Of human Welfare and Renown,
Trade's the big heart; bright empire, but their eye.

20

Whence Tartar Grand, or Mogul Great?
Trade gilt their titles, power'd their state;
While Afric's black, lascivious, slothful breed,
To clasp their ruin, fly from toil;
That meanest product of their soil,
Their people, sell; one half on t'other feed.

21

Of Nature's wealth from Commerce rent,
Afric's a glaring monument:
Mid citron forests and pomegranate groves
(Cursed in a Paradise!) she pines;
O'er generous glebe, o'er golden mines,
Her beggar'd, famish'd, tradeless native roves.

22

Not so thine, China, blooming wide!
Thy numerous fleets might bridge the tide;
Thy products would exhaust both Indias' mines:
Shut be thy gate of trade, or (woe
To Britain's!) Europe 'twill o'erflow.—
Ungrateful song! her growth inspires thy lines.

23

Britain! to these, and such as these,
The river broad, and foaming seas,
Which sever lands to mortals less renown'd,
Devoid of naval skill or might,
Those sever'd parts of earth unite:
Trade's the full pulse that sends their vigour round.

24

Could, O, could one engrossing hand
The various streams of Trade command,
That, like the sun, would gazing nations awe:
That awful power the world would brave,
Bold War and Empire proud his slave;
Mankind his subjects; and his will, their law.

25

Hast thou look'd round the spacious earth?
From Commerce Grandeur's humble birth:
To George from Noah, empires living, dead,
Their pride, their shame, their rise, their fall,—
Time's whole plain chronicle is all
One bright encomium, undesign'd, on Trade.

26

Trade springs from Peace, and Wealth from Trade,
And Power from Wealth; of Power is made
The god on earth: hail, then, the dove of Peace,
Whose olive speaks the raging flood
Of war repress'd! What's loss of blood?
War is the death of Commerce and Increase.

27

Then perish War!—Detested War!
Shalt thou make gods, like Cæsar's star?
What calls man fool so loud as this has done,
From Nimrod's down to Bourbon's line?
Why not adore too, as Divine,
Wide-wasting storms, before the genial sun?

28

Peace is the merchant's summer clear;
His harvest,—harvest round the year:
For Peace with laurel every mast be bound,
Each deck carouse, each flag stream out,
Each cannon sound, each sailor shout!
For Peace let every sacred ship be crown'd.

29

Sacred are ships, of birth Divine:
An angel drew the first design;
With which the patriarch nature's ruins braved:
Two worlds aboard, an old and new,
He safe o'er foaming billows flew:
The gods made human race; a pilot saved.

30

How sacred, too, the merchant's name!
When Britain blazed meridian fame,
Bright shone the sword, but brighter Trade gave law;
Merchants in distant courts revered,
Where prouder statesmen ne'er appear'd;
Merchants ambassadors, and thrones in awe!

31

'Tis theirs to know the tides, the times,
The march of stars, the births of climes;
Summer and Winter theirs; theirs land and sea;
Theirs are the seasons, months, and years;
And each a different garland wears:—
O that my song could add eternity!

32

Praise is the sacred oil that feeds
The burning lamp of god-like deeds;
Immortal glory pays illustrious cares.
Whither, ye Britons, are ye bound?
O noble voyage, glorious round!
Launch from the Thames, and end among the stars.

33

If to my subject rose my soul,
Your fame should last while oceans roll:
When other worlds in depths of time shall rise,
As we the Greeks of mighty name,
May they Britannia's fleet proclaim,
Look up, and read her story in the skies.

34

Ye Sirens, sing; ye Tritons, blow;
Ye Nereids, dance; ye billows, flow;
Roll to my measures, O ye starry throng!
Ye winds, in concert breathe around;
Ye navies, to the concert bound
From pole to pole! To Britain all belong.

The Dolphin.

The Spanish Armada in the House of Lords; since engraved and published by Mr. Pine.

Coffee.

In Queen Elizabeth's reign.

THE MORAL.

The most happy should be the most virtuous.—Of eternity.—What Britain's arts should be.—Whence slavery.

1

Britain! thus bless'd, thy blessing know;
Or bliss in vain the gods bestow;
Its end fulfil, means cherish, source adore:

Vain swellings of thy soul repress;
They most may lose who most possess:
Then let bliss awe, and tremble at thy store.

2

Nor be too fond of life at best;
Her cheerful, not enamour'd, guest:
Let thought fly forward; 'twill gay prospects give;
Prospects immortal, that deride
A Tyrian wealth, a Persian pride,
And make it perfect fortitude to live.

3

O for eternity! a scene
To fair adventurers serene!
O, on that sea to deal in pure renown,—
Traffic with gods! What transports roll!
What boundless import to the soul!
The poor man's empire, and the subject's crown!

4

Adore the gods, and plough the seas:
These be thy arts, O Britain, these!
Let others pant for an immense command;
Let others breathe war's fiery god;
The proudest victor fears thy nod,
Long as the trident fills thy glorious hand.

5

Glorious, while heaven-born Freedom lasts,
Which Trade's soft spurious daughter blasts;
For what is Tyranny? A monstrous birth
From Luxury, by bribes caress'd,
By glowing Power in shades compress'd;
Which stalks around, and chains the groaning earth.

THE CLOSE.

This subject now first sung. How sung.—Preferable to Pindar's subjects.—How Britain should be sung by all.

1

Thee, Trade! I first—who boast no store,
Who owe thee nought—thus snatch from shore,
The shore of Prose, where thou hast slumber'd long;
And send thy flag triumphant down
The tide of time to sure renown.
O bless my country! and thou pay'st my song.

2

Thou art the Briton's noblest theme;
Why, then, unsung? My simple aim
To dress plain sense, and fire the generous blood;
Not sport imaginations vain,
But list, with yon ethereal train,
The shining Muse to serve the public good.

3

Of ancient art and ancient praise
The springs are open'd in my lays:
Olympic heroes' ghosts around me throng,
And think their glory sung anew,
Till chiefs of equal fame they view,
Nor grudge to Britons bold their Theban song.

4

Not Pindar's theme with mine compares,
As far surpass'd as useful cares
Transcend diversion light and glory vain:
The wreath fantastic, shouting throng
And panting steed to him belong,—
The charioteer's, not Empire's golden, reign.

5

Nor, Chandos, thou the Muse despise
That would to glowing Ætna rise,
(Such Pindar's boast,) thou Theron of our time!
Seldom to man the gods impart
A Pindar's head or Theron's heart;
In life or song how rare the true sublime!

6

None British-born will, sure, disdain
This new, bold, moral, patriot strain,
Though not with genius, with some virtue, crown'd:
(How vain the Muse!) the lay may last,
Thus twined around the British mast,
The British mast with nobler laurels bound.

7

Weak ivy curls round naval oak,
And smiles at wind and storm unbroke,
By strength not hers sublime: thus, proud to soar,
To Britain's grandeur cleaves my strain;
And lives, and echoes through the plain,
While o'er the billow Britain's thunders roar.

8

Be dumb, ye grovelling sons of verse,
Who sing not actions, but rehearse,
And fool the Muse with impotent desire!
Ye sacrilegious, who presume
To tarnish Britain's naval bloom!
Sing Britain's fame with all her hero's fire.

THE CHORUS.

------ Tibi res antiquæ laudis et artis
Ingredior, sanctos ausus recludere fontes:
Ascræumque cano Romana per oppida carmen.
Virgilii Georg. lib. ii. 174.

Commonly called “The Treaty of Seville,” concluded December 9th, 1729, between the crowns of Great Britain, France, Spain, and the United Provinces.

University of Virginia Library

IMPERIUM PELAGI.

A NAVAL LYRIC. WRITTEN IN IMITATION OF PINDAR'S SPIRIT.

OCCASIONED BY HIS MAJESTY'S RETURN, SEPTEMBER 10TH, 1729, AND THE SUCCEEDING PEACE.

THE MERCHANT.

ODE THE FIRST. ON THE BRITISH TRADE AND NAVIGATION.

PRELUDE.

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STRAIN THE FIRST.

THE ARGUMENT.

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STRAIN THE SECOND.

THE ARGUMENT.

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