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النشر الإلكتروني

Thy Wars, as Rivers raised by a Shower,
Which welcome Clouds do pour :

Tho' they at first may seem

To carry all away with an enraged Stream;
Yet did not happen that they might destroy,
Or the better parts annoy:

But all the Filth and Mud to fcour,
And leave behind another Slime,

To give a birth to a more happy Power.

IX.

In Fields unconquer'd, and fo well

Thou didft in Battels and in Arms excel;
That fteelly Arms themselves might be
Worn out in War as foon as thee;
Succefs fo close upon thy Troops did wait,
As if thou firft hadft conquer'd Fate;
As if uncertain Victory

Had been firft overcome by thee;

As if her Wings were clipt, and could not flee,
Whilft thou didst only ferve,

Before thou hadft what firft thou didst deserve.
Others by thee did great things do,
Triumph'ft thy felf, and mad'ft them triumph too
Tho' they above thee did appear,

As yet in a more large and higher Sphere: Thou, the great Sun, gav'ft Light to every Star; Thy felf an Army wert alone,

And mighty Troops contain'd in one.
Thy only Sword did guard the Land,

Like that which flaming in the Angel's Hand,
From Men God's Garden did defend:

But yet thy Sword did more than his,

Not only guarded, but did make this Land a Paradife,

X.

Thou fought'ft not to be High or Great,

Nor for a Scepter or a Crown,

Or Ermin, Purple, or the Throne ;
But as the Vestal Heat,

Thy Fire was kindled from above alone;
Religion putting on thy Shield,

Brought thee victorious to the Field.

Thy Arms, like those which Ancient Heroes wore,
Were given by the God thou didst adore;
And all the words thy Armies had,
Were on an Heavenly Anvil made;
Not Int'reft, or any weak defire

Of Rule or Empire, did thy Mind inspire;
Thy Valour like the Holy Fire,

Which did before the Perfian Armies go,
Liv'd in the Camp, and yet was facred too:
Thy mighty Sword anticipates,

What was referv'd by Heaven and those bleft Seats, And makes the Church triumphant here below,

XI.

Tho' Fortune did hang on thy Sword,
And did obey thy mighty Word;
Tho' Fortune, for thy fide and thee,
Forgot her lov'd Inconftancy;
Amidst thy Arms and Trophies thou
Wert valiant and gentle too;

Wounded'ft thy felf, when thou didst kill thy Foe,
Like Steel, when it much work has past,
That which was rough does fhine at laft,

Thy Arms by being oftner us'd did smoother grow.
Nor did thy Battels make thee Proud or High,
Thy Conqueft rais'd the State, not Thee:
Thou overcam'ft thy self in every victory.
As when the Sun in a directer Line,
Upon a polish'd Golden Shield doth shine,
The Shield reflects unto the Sun again his Light:
So when the Heavens finil'd on thee in Fight;
When thy propitious God had lent
Succefs, and Victory to thy Tent;
To Heav'n again the Victory was fent,
XII.

England, 'till thou did't come,

Confin'd her Valour home;

Then our own Rocks did ftand
Bounds to our Fame as well as Land,
And were to us as well

As to our Enemies unpaffable:
We were asham'd at what we read,
And blush'd at what our Fathers did,
Because we came fo far behind the Dead.
The British Lion hung his Main, and droop'd,
To Slavery and Burden stoop'd,
With a degenerate Sleep and Fear
Lay in his Den, and languish'd there ;
At whofe leaft Voice before,

A trembling Eccho ran through every Shore,
And hook the World at every Roar:
Thou his fubdu'd Courage didft restore,
Sharpen his Claws and from his Eyes
Mad'ft the fame dreadful Lightning rife;
Mad'ft him again affright the neighbouring Floods,
His mighty Thunder founds through all the Woods:
Thou haft our Military Fame redeem'd,

Which was loft, or clouded feem'd:
Nay, more, Heaven did by thee beftow
On us, at once an Iron Age, and happy too.

XIII.

'Till thou command'ft, that Azure Chain of Waves, Which Nature round about us fent,

Made us to every Pirate Slaves,

Was rather Burden than an Ornament;

Thofe Fields of Sea that wash'd our Shores, Were plow'd, and reap'd by other Hands than ours; To us, the liquid Mafs,

Which doth about us run,

As it is to the Sun,

Only a Bed to fleep on was:

And not as now a powerful Throne,

To fhake and fway the World thereon.

Our Princes in their Hand a Globe did fhew,

But not a perfect one,

Compos'd of Earth and Water too.
But thy Commands the Floods obey'd,
Thou all the Wilderness of Water sway'd;
Thou did'ft not only wed the Sea,

Not make her equal, but a Slave to thee.
Neptune himself did bear thy Yoke,
Stoop'd, and trembled at thy Stroke:
He that ruled all the Main,

Acknowledg'd thee his Sovereign:
And now the conquer'd Sea doth pay
More Tribute to thy Thames, than that unto the Sea.
XIV.

'Till now our Valour did our felves more hurt ; Our Wounds to other Nations were a sport; And as the Earth, our Land produc'd

Iron and Steel, which fhould to tear our felves be us'd: Our ftrength within it felf did break,

Like thundering Canons crack,

And kill'd thofe that were near,

While the Enemies fecur'd and untouch'd were.
But now our Trumpets thou haft made to Sound
Against our Enemies Walls in foreign Ground;
And yet no Eccho back to us returning found.
England is now the happy peaceful Isle,
And all the World the while
Is exercifing Arms and Wars

With Foreign or Inteftine Jars.

The Torch extinguish'd here, we lend to others Oyl,
We give to all, yet know our felves no fear;
We reach the Flame. of Ruin and of Death,
Where-e'er we please our Swords to unfheath,
Whilft we in calm and temperate Regions breath:
Like to the Sun, whofe heat is hurl'd
Through every Corner of the World;
whofe Flame through all the Air doth go,
And yet the Sun himself the while no Fire does know,

XV.

Befides, the Glories of thy Peace

Are not in number, nor in value lefs.

Thy Hand did cure, and close the Scars
Of our bloody Civil Wars;

Not only lanc'd but heal'd the Wound,
Made us again as healthy and as found:
When now the Ship was well nigh loft,
After the Storm upon the Coaft,

By its Mariners endanger'd most,

When they their Ropes and Helms had left;
When the Planks afunder cleft,

And Floods came roaring in with mighty found,
Thou a fafe Land and Harbour for us found,

And favedft thofe that would themfelves have drown'd:

A work which none but Heaven and Thee could do,
Thou mad'ft us happy whether we would or no:
Thy Judgment, Mercy, Temperance fo great,
As if those Virtues only in thy Mind had feat:
Thy Piety not only in the Field, but Peace,
When Heaven feem'd to be wanted leaft;
Thy Temples not like Janus only were,
Open in time of War,

When thou hadft greater cause of fear:
Religion and the awe of Heaven poffeft
All places and all times alike thy Breaft.

XVI.

Nor didft thou only for thy Age provide,
But for the Years to come befide;
Our after-times, and late Pofterity,
Shall pay unto thy Fame as much as we;
They too are made by thee.

When Fate did call thee to a higher Throne,
And when thy mortal Work was done,
When Heaven did fay it, and thou must be gone,
Thou him to bear thy burden chofe,

Who might (if any could) make us forget thy lofs; Nor hadft thou him defign'd,

Had he not been

Not only to thy Blood, but Virtue kin,

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