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Where Kneller's art fhall paint the flying Gaul,
And Bourbon's woes fhall fill the story'd wall;
Heirs of thy blood shall o'er their bounteous board
Fix Europe's guard, thy monumental fword;
Banners that oft have wav'd on conquer'd walls,
And trumps, that drown'd the groans of gasping Gauls.
Fair dames fhall oft, with curious eye, explore
The coftly robes that flaughter'd gen'rals wore,
Rich trappings from the Danube's whirlpools brought,
(Hefperian nuns the gorgeous broid'ry wrought)
Belts ftiff with gold, the Boian horfeman's pride,
And Gaul's fair flow'rs, in human crimson dy'd.
Of Churchill's race perhaps fome lovely boy
Shall mark the burnish'd steel that hangs on high;
Shall gaze tranfported on its glitt'ring charms,
And reach it struggling with unequal arms;
By figns the drum's tumultuous found request,
Then feek, in ftarts, the hufhing mother's breaft.
So, in the painter's animated frame,

Where Mars embraces the foft Paphian dame,
The little loves in fport the faulchion wield,
Or join their ftrength to heave his pond'rous fhield;
One ftrokes the plume in Tityon's gore embru'd,
And one the spear, that reeks in Typhon's blood;
Another's infant brows the helm sustain,
He nods his creft, and frights the shrieking train.
Thus, the rude tempeft of the field o'er-blown,
Shall whiter rounds of fmiling years roll on:

3

Our

Our victors, bleft in peace, forget their wars,
Enjoy paft dangers, and abfolve the stars.

But oh! what forrows fhall bedew your urns,

yet

Ye honour'd fhades, whom widow'd Albion mourns
İf thin forms
your
discontented moan,
And haunt the mangled mansions once your own;
Behold what flow'rs the pious muses strow,

And tears, which in the midst of triumph flow:
Cyprefs and bays your envy'd brows furround,
Your names the tender matron's heart fhall wound,
And the foft maid grow penfive at the found.

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Accept, great ANNE, the tears their mem'ry draws, Who nobly perish'd in their fov'reign's caufe: For thou in pity bid'ft the war give o'er, Mourn'ft thy flain heroes, nor wilt venture more. Vaft price of blood on each victorious day! (But Europe's freedom doth that price repay.) Lamented triumphs! when one breath must tell That Marlb'rough conquer'd, and that Dormer fell. Great Queen! whofe name ftrikes haughty monarchs pale, On whofe juft fcepter hangs Europa's scale; Whose arm like mercy wounds, decides like fate, On whofe decree the nations anxious wait: From Albion's cliffs thy wide-extended hand Shall o'er the main to far Peru command, So vaft a tract whofe wide domain fhall run, Its circling fkies fhall fee no fetting fun. Thee, thee an hundred languages shall claim, And favage Indians fwear by ANNA's name ;

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The line and poles fhall own thy rightful fway,
And thy commands the fever'd globe obey.

Round the vast ball thy new dominions chain
The watʼry kingdoms, and controul the main ;
Magellan's ftreights to Gibraltar they join,
Across the feas a formidable line;

The fight of adverse Gaul we fear no more,
But pleas'd fee Dunkirk, now a guiltless shore.
In vain great Neptune tore the narrow ground,
And meant his waters for Britannia's bound;
Her giant Genius takes a mighty ftride,
And fets his foot beyond t' incroaching tide;
On either bank the land its mafter knows,
And in the midft the fubject ocean flows.

So near proud Rhodes, across the raging flood,
Stupendous form! the vaft Coloffus ftood,
(While at one foot their thronging gallies ride,
A whole hour's fail scarce reach the farther fide)
Betwixt his brazen thighs, in loose array,
Ten thousand streamers on the billows play.
By HARLEY'S counfels Dunkirk now restor'd
To Britain's empire, owns her ancient lord.
In him transfus'd his godlike father reigns,
Rich in the blood which swell'd that patriot's veins,
Who boldly faithful met his fov'reign's frown,
And fcorn'd for gold to yield th' important town.
His fon was born the ravish'd prey to claim,
And France ftill trembles at an Harley's name.

VOL. I.

B

A fort

A fort fo dreadful to our English shore,
Our fleets scarce fear'd the fands or tempefts more,
Whose vast expences to fuch fum's amount,

That the tax'd Gaul fcarce furnish'd out th' account :
Whofe walls fuch bulwarks, fuch vaft tow'rs reftrain,
Its weakest ramparts are the rocks and main ;
His boaft great Louis yields, and cheaply buys
Thy friendship, ANNA, with the mighty prize.
Holland repining and in grief cast down,
Sees the new glories of the British crown :
Ah! may they ne'er provoke thee to the fight,
Nor foes more dreadful than the Gaul invite,
Soon may they hold the olive, soon asswage
Their fecret murmurs, nor call forth thy rage
To rend their banks, and pour, at one command
Thy realm the fea o'er their precarious land.

Henceforth be thine, vice-gerent of the skies,
Scorn'd worth to raise, and vice in robes chastise;
To dry the orphan's tears, and from the bar
Chafe the brib'd judge, and hufh the wordy war;
Deny the curs'd blasphemer's tongue to rage,
And turn God's fury from an impious age.
Bleft change the foldier's late destroying hand
Shall rear new temples in his native land;
Mistaken zealots shall with fear behold,

And beg admittance in our facred fold;

On her own works the pious Queen shall smile,
And turn her cares upon her fav'rite isle.

I

So

So the keen bolt a warrior angel aims,
Array'd in clouds, and wrapt in mantling flames,
He bears a tempeft on his founding wings,
And his red arm the forky vengeance flings;

At length, heav'n's wrath appeas'd, he quits the war,
To roll his orb, and guide his deftin'd star,
To fhed kind fate, and lucky hours bestow,
And smile propitious on the world below.
Around thy throne fhall faithful nobles wait,
These guard the church, and those direct the state.
TO BRISTOL, graceful in maternal tears,
The church her tow'ry forehead gently rears,
She begs her pious fon t' affert her cause,
Defend her rights, and re-inforce her laws,
With holy zeal the facred work begin,
To bend the ftubborn, and the meek to win.

Our OXFORD's earl in careful thought shall stand,
To raise his Queen, and save a finking land,
The wealthiest glebe to rav'nous Spaniards known
He marks, and makes the golden world our own :
Content with hands unfoil'd to guard the prize,
And keep the ftore with undefiring eyes.

So round the tree, that bore Hefperian gold,
The facred watch lay curl'd in many a fold,
His eyes up-rearing to th' untafted prey,
The fleepless guardian wafted life away.
Beneath the peaceful olives, rais'd by you,
Her ancient pride shall ev'ry art renew;

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