University of Virginia Library

V.

V. 1.

“Hold, Faction! hold; the impious deed
“Shall seal thy direful bane;
“The nation's blood, the ocean's tide,
“Would fail to wash the stain.
“Attend the charge: In Albion's dreadful name
“Cancel the bloody doom, resign thy wrath!
“The great Augustus vindicates her fame,
“And comes, anon, with massacre and death.
“Behold his raging navy, borne
“With banner'd terror, shakes the northern wave:
“Ah, Scandia! on that fatal morn
“When Albion's voice in thund'ring tempest roars,
“And fire and vengeance whelm your shores,
“What arm shall judgement brave?
“Where shall abhorred Treason flee
“For refuge from the storm?
“Where hopeful bend the suppliant knee,
“Which crimes and blood deform?
“Hear! and relent, ere late Repentance rise
“To wail her blasted shores, to lave
“Her daring guilt with ever-streaming eyes.”

V. 2.

Like trembling coward Ransa shook;
Proud Julian stood aghast:
Bold Faction, shrunk in troubl'd look,
Adown her axes cast:
Rebellion flies, and, charm'd to sleep,
The storm of outrage rests like the relenting deep.
He rais'd the Princess from the ground,
From death redeem'd; dispels her fears,
And from their savage chains unbound,
Her mind with soothing comfort chears.
Anon, swift o'er the foaming tide
Britannia's tow'ring vessels hie,
The Dame receive with regal pride,
With shouts, and cannons thund'ring cry.
Beneath a Brother's shield she finds repose;
Old Ocean smooths his angry waves,
To greet his Daughter bright;
Fair Thetis, girt with her cerulean train
Of sister-nymphs, in em'rald vails bedight,
Safe in her shelt'ring arms the Dame receives,
'Scap'd from the fury of her Gothic foes,
And wafts in triumph proud across the wond'ring main.

V. 3.

Sweet Peace attend thee, Royal Fair,
Secur'd from Envy's frown;
Britain the column shall prepare,
Grac'd high with bright renown.
Thy baleful stound, the thorns of grief
Keen pressing on thy breast,
Time shall allay with fond relief,
Her wings soft shedding grateful rest.
Like Venus crown'd, with sov'reign mien,
And Siren voice, charming rude winds that blow,
With smiles of amity, the Albion Queen
Shall kindly sooth a Sister's wo.
A Brother's arm shall vindicate thy right,
Should mad'ning Faction muster to deface
The sacred honours of thy sov'reign race;
Augustus shall arise in dreadful might,
His thund'ring Navy shake the strand;
His warlike Peers, so just and brave,
With fire and slaughter waste the land,
And crush the traitors, whelm'd in the devouring wave.

V. 4.