 | Poems on Several Occasions |  |
41
VERSES ON THE UNION.
The
Gaul, intent on universal Sway,
Sees his own Subjects with Constraint obey:
And they who most his rising Beams ador'd,
Weep in their Chains, and wish another Lord.
But, if the Muse not uninspir'd presage,
Justice shall triumph o'er oppressive Rage:
His Pow'r shall be reclaim'd to rightful Laws,
And all, like Savoy, shall desert his Cause.
So when to distant Vales an Eagle steers,
His Fierceness not disarm'd by Length of Years;
From his stretch'd Wing he sees the Feathers fly,
Which bore him to his Empire of the Sky.
Sees his own Subjects with Constraint obey:
And they who most his rising Beams ador'd,
Weep in their Chains, and wish another Lord.
But, if the Muse not uninspir'd presage,
Justice shall triumph o'er oppressive Rage:
42
And all, like Savoy, shall desert his Cause.
So when to distant Vales an Eagle steers,
His Fierceness not disarm'd by Length of Years;
From his stretch'd Wing he sees the Feathers fly,
Which bore him to his Empire of the Sky.
Unlike, great Queen, thy Steps to deathless Fame;
O best, O greatest of thy Royal Name!
Thy Britons, fam'd for Arts, in Battel brave,
Have nothing now to censure, or to crave:
Ev'n Vice, and factious Zeal are held in awe,
Thy Court a Temple, and thy Life a Law.
O best, O greatest of thy Royal Name!
Thy Britons, fam'd for Arts, in Battel brave,
Have nothing now to censure, or to crave:
Ev'n Vice, and factious Zeal are held in awe,
Thy Court a Temple, and thy Life a Law.
When edg'd with Terrors, by thy vengeful Hand
The Sword is drawn to goar a guilty Land;
Thy Mercy cures the Wound thy Justice gave,
For 'tis thy lov'd Prerogative to save:
And Victory, to grace thy Triumph, brings
Palms in her Hand, with Healing in her Wings.
The Sword is drawn to goar a guilty Land;
Thy Mercy cures the Wound thy Justice gave,
For 'tis thy lov'd Prerogative to save:
And Victory, to grace thy Triumph, brings
Palms in her Hand, with Healing in her Wings.
43
But as mild Heav'n on Eden's op'ning Gems
Bestow'd the balmiest Dews, and brightest Beams:
So, whilst remotest Climes thy Influence share,
Britain's the darling Object of thy Care:
By thy wise Councils, and resistless Might,
Abroad we conquer, and at home Unite:
Before thou bid'st the distant Battels cease,
Thy Piety cements domestic Peace;
Impatient of Delay to fix the State,
Thy Dove brings Olive e'er the Waves abate.
Bestow'd the balmiest Dews, and brightest Beams:
So, whilst remotest Climes thy Influence share,
Britain's the darling Object of thy Care:
By thy wise Councils, and resistless Might,
Abroad we conquer, and at home Unite:
Before thou bid'st the distant Battels cease,
Thy Piety cements domestic Peace;
Impatient of Delay to fix the State,
Thy Dove brings Olive e'er the Waves abate.
Hail, happy Sister-Lands! for ever prove
Rivals alone in Loyalty and Love:
Kindl'd from Heav'n, be your auspicious Flame
As lasting, and as bright as Anna's Fame!
And thou, fair Northern Nymph, partake our Toil,
With us divide the Danger, and the Spoil:
When thy brave Sons, the Friends of Mars avow'd,
In Steel around our Albion Standards crowd;
What Wonders in the War shall now be shown
By her, who single shook the Gallic Throne!
Rivals alone in Loyalty and Love:
Kindl'd from Heav'n, be your auspicious Flame
As lasting, and as bright as Anna's Fame!
And thou, fair Northern Nymph, partake our Toil,
With us divide the Danger, and the Spoil:
When thy brave Sons, the Friends of Mars avow'd,
In Steel around our Albion Standards crowd;
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By her, who single shook the Gallic Throne!
The Day draws nigh, in which the Warrior-Queen
Shall wave her Union Crosses o'er the Seine:
Rouz'd with heroic Warmth unfelt before,
Her Lions with redoubl'd Fury roar;
And urging on to Fame, with Joy behold
The woody Walks in which they rang'd of old.
O Louis, long the Terror of thy Arms
Has aw'd the Continent with dire Alarms;
Exulting in thy Pride with Hope to see
Empires, and States derive their Pow'r from thee;
From Britain's equal Hand the Scale to wrest,
And reign without a Rival o'er the West:
But now the Laurels, by thy Rapine torn
From Belgian Groves, in early Triumphs born;
Wither'd and leafless in thy Winter stand,
Expos'd a Prey to ev'ry hostile Hand:
By strange Extreams of Destiny decreed
To flourish, and to fall with equal Speed.
Shall wave her Union Crosses o'er the Seine:
Rouz'd with heroic Warmth unfelt before,
Her Lions with redoubl'd Fury roar;
And urging on to Fame, with Joy behold
The woody Walks in which they rang'd of old.
O Louis, long the Terror of thy Arms
Has aw'd the Continent with dire Alarms;
Exulting in thy Pride with Hope to see
Empires, and States derive their Pow'r from thee;
From Britain's equal Hand the Scale to wrest,
And reign without a Rival o'er the West:
But now the Laurels, by thy Rapine torn
From Belgian Groves, in early Triumphs born;
Wither'd and leafless in thy Winter stand,
Expos'd a Prey to ev'ry hostile Hand:
45
To flourish, and to fall with equal Speed.
So the young Gourd, around the Prophet's Head
With swift Encrease her fragrant Honours spread;
Beneath the growing Shade secure he sate,
To see the Tow'rs of Ninus bow to Fate:
But curs'd by Heav'n, the Greens began to fade,
And, sick'ning, sudden as they rose, decay'd.
With swift Encrease her fragrant Honours spread;
Beneath the growing Shade secure he sate,
To see the Tow'rs of Ninus bow to Fate:
But curs'd by Heav'n, the Greens began to fade,
And, sick'ning, sudden as they rose, decay'd.
| Poems on Several Occasions | |