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The Poetical Works of the Late Thomas Warton

... Fifth Edition, Corrected and Enlarged. To which are now added Inscriptionum Romanarum Delectus, and An Inaugural Speech As Camden Professor of History, never before published. Together with Memoirs of his Life and Writings; and Notes, Critical and Explanatory. By Richard Mant

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ODE XX. FOR THE NEW YEAR, 1788.
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ODE XX. FOR THE NEW YEAR, 1788.

I.

Rude was the pile, and massy proof,
That first uprear'd its haughty roof
On Windsor's brow sublime, in warlike state:
The Norman tyrant's jealous hand
The giant fabric proudly plann'd:
With recent victory elate,
“On this majestic steep,” he cried,
“A regal fortress, threatening wide,
“Shall spread my terrors to the distant hills;
“Its formidable shade shall throw
“Far o'er the broad expanse below,

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“Where winds yon mighty flood, and amply fills
“With flowery verdure, or with golden grain,
“The fairest fields that deck my new domain!
“And London's towers, that reach the watchman's eye,
“Shall see with conscious awe my bulwark climb the sky.”

II.

Unchang'd, through many a hardy race,
Stood the rough dome in sullen grace;
Still on its angry front defiance frown'd:
Though monarchs kept their state within,
Still murmur'd with the martial din
The gloomy gateway's arch profound;
And armed forms, in airy rows,
Bent o'er the battlements their bows,

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And blood-stain'd banners crown'd its hostile head;
And oft its hoary ramparts wore
The rugged scars of conflict sore;
What time, pavilion'd on the neighbouring mead,
Th' indignant Barons rang'd in bright array
Their feudal bands, to curb despotic sway;

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And leagu'd a Briton's birthright to restore,
From John's reluctant grasp the roll of freedom bore.

III.

When lo, the king, that wreath'd his shield
With lilies pluck'd on Cressy's field,

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Heav'd from its base the mould'ring Norman frame!—
New glory cloth'd th' exulting steep,
The portals tower'd with ampler sweep;
And Valour's soften'd Genius came,
Here held his pomp, and trail'd the pall
Of triumph through the trophied hall;
And War was clad awhile in gorgeous weeds;
Amid the martial pageantries,

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While Beauty's glance adjudg'd the prize,
And beam'd sweet influence on heroic deeds.
Nor long, ere Henry's holy zeal, to breathe
A milder charm upon the scenes beneath,
Rear'd in the watery glade his classic shrine,
And call'd his stripling-quire, to woo the willing Nine.

IV.

To this imperial seat to lend
Its pride supreme, and nobly blend
British magnificence with Attic art;
Proud Castle, to thy banner'd bowers,
Lo! Picture bids her glowing powers
Their bold historic groups impart:

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She bids th' illuminated pane,
Along thy lofty-vaulted fane,

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Shed the dim blaze of radiance richly clear.—
Still may such arts of Peace engage
Their Patron's care! But should the rage
Of war to battle rouse the new-born year,
Britain arise, and wake the slumbering fire,
Vindictive dart thy quick-rekindling ire!
Or, arm'd to strike, in mercy spare the foe;
And lift thy thundering hand, and then withhold the blow!