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Such is the end of oft repeated miracles.
Forgive me, Heaven, that impious thought,
'Twas grief for Charles, to madness wrought,
That question'd thy supreme decree !
Thou didst his gracious reign prolong,
Even in thy saints and angels wrong,
His fellow-citizens of immortality :
For twelve long years of exile born,
Twice twelve we number'd since his blest return
So strictly wert thou just to pay,
E’en to the driblet of a day.
Yet still we murmur, and complain,
The quails and manna should no longer rain ;
Those miracles 'twas needless to renew;
The chosen flock has now the promis'd land in view.
A warlike prince ascends the regal state,
A prince long exercis'd by fate :
Long may he keep, though he obtains it late.
Heroes in heaven's peculiar mould are cast,
They and their poets are not form’d in haste ;
Man was the first in God's design, and man was
made the last.
False heroes, made by flattery so,
Heaven can strike out, like sparkles, at a blow;
But ere a prince is to perfection brought,
He costs Omnipotence a second thought.
With toil and sweat,
With hard'ning cold, and forming heat,
The Cyclops did their strokes repeat,
Before the impenetrable shield was wrought.
It looks as if the Maker would
The noble work for his,
Before 'twas tried and found a masterpiece.
View then a monarch ripen’d for a throne.
Alcides thus his race began,
O'er infancy he swiftly ran ;
The future god at first was more than man:
Dangers and toils, and Juno's hate
E'en o'er his cradle lay in wait;
And there he grappled first with fate:
In his young hands the hissing snakes he press'd,
So early was the deity confess'd ;
Thus by degrees he rose to Jove's imperial seat;
Thus difficulties prove a soul legitimately great.
Like his, our hero's infancy was tried:
Betimes the furies did their snakes provide ;
And to his infant arms oppose
His father's rebels, and his brother's foes;
The more oppress’d, the higher still he rose ;
Those were the preludes of his fate,
That form’d his manhood, to subdue
The hydra of a many-headed hissing crew.
As after Numa's peaceful reign,
The martial Ancus did the sceptre wield,
Furbish'd the rusty sword again,
Resum'd the long-forgotten shield,
And led the Latins to the dusty field;
So James the drowsy genius wakes
Of Britain long entranc'd in charms,
Restiff and slumbering on its arms :
'Tis rous'd, and with a new-strung nerve, the
spear already shakes.
No neighing of the warrior steeds,
No drum, or louder trumpet, needs
To inspire the coward, warm the cold,
His voice, his sole appearance makes them bold.
Gaul and Batavia dread the impending blow;
Too well the vigour of that arm they know;
They lick the dust, and crouch beneath their fatal
foe. Long may they fear this awful prince, And not provoke his lingering sword ; Peace is their only sure defence, Their best security his word : In all the changes of his doubtful state, His truth, like heaven's, was kept inviolate, For him to promise is to make it fate. His valour can triumph o'er land and main ; With broken oaths his fame he will not stain ; With conquest basely bought, and with inglorious
For once, O heaven, unfold thy adamantine book; And let his wondering senate see,
If not thy firm immutable decree,
At least the second page of strong contingency ;
Such as consists with wills originally free:
Let them with glad amazement look
On what their happiness may be : Let them not still be obstinately blind, Still to divert the good thou hast design'd, Or with malignant penury, To starve the royal virtues of his mind. Faith is a Christian's and a subject's test, Oh give them to believe, and they are surely blest.
They do; and with a distant view I see
The amended vows of English loyalty. And all beyond that object, there appears The long retinue of a prosperous reign, A series of successful years, In orderly array, a martial, manly train. Behold e'en the remoter shores, A conquering navy proudly spread; The British cannon formidably roars, While starting from his oozy bed, The asserted ocean rears his reverend head, To view and recognise his ancient lord again : 515 And, with a willing hand, restores The fasces of the main.
TO MY FRIEND MR. J. NORTHLEIGH,
AUTHOR OF THE PARALLEL, ON HIS TRIUMPH OF THE
So Joseph, yet a youth, expounded well
The boding dream, and did th' event foretell;
Judged by the past, and drew the parallel.
Thus early Solomon the truth explored,
The right awarded, and the babe restored.
Thus Daniel, ere to prophecy he grew,
The perjured Presbyters did first subdue,
And freed Susanna from the canting crew.
Well may our monarchy triumphant stand,
While warlike James protects both sea and land;
And, under covert of his sevenfold shield,
Thou send’st thy shafts to scour the distant field.
By law thy powerful pen has set us free;
Thou studiest that, and that may study thee.