« السابقةمتابعة »
Here o'er the martyr-king the marble weeps, And, fast beside him, once feared Edward
sleeps : 1 Whom not the extended Albion could contain, From old Belerium to the northern main, 316 The grave unites ; where ev'n the great find
rest, And blended lie theoppressor and the oppressed!
Make sacred Charles's tomb for ever known, (Obscure the place, and uninscribed the stone,)3 Oh fact accurst! what tears has Albion shed, 321 Heavens, what new wounds! and how her old
have bled ! She saw her sons with purple deaths expire, Her sacred domes involved in rolling fire, A dreadful series of intestine wars, 325 Inglorious triumphs and dishonest scars. At length great Anna said: “Let discord
cease!" She said, the world obeyed, and all was peace !
In that blest moment, from his oozy bed 329 Old father Thames advanced his reverend head; His tresses dropped with dews, and o'er the
stream His shining horns diffused a golden gleam : Graved on his arn, appeared the moon that
guides . His swelling waters, and alternate tides; The figured streams in waves of silver rolled, And on their banks Augusta rose in gold. 336
1 Edward IV.-P.
2 The Land's End in Cornwall is called by Diodorus Siculus Belerium Promontorium.
3 The exact spot in St. George's Chapel where Charles I. was buried was not discovered until 1813.
4 Augusta was the name which the Romans at one period gave to London.-Elwin.
Around his throne the sea-born brothers stood,
High in the midst, upon his urn reclined,
rise; Then bowed and spoke; the winds forget to
And the hushed waves glide softly to the shore. “ Hail, sacred Peace! bail, long-expected
355 That Thames's glory to the stars shall raise ! Though Tiber's streams immortal Rome behold, Though foaming Hermus swells with tides of
gold, From heaven itself though sevenfold Nilus
flows, And harvests on a hundred realms bestows; 360 These now no more shall be the Muse's themes, Lost in my fame, as in the sea their streams.
1 Elwin says it was a common notion that the name “ Tamesis” was formed from joining the words Thames and Isis. 2 The Wandle.-Croker.
3 The Mole sinks through its sands in dry summers into an invisible channel underground.—Bowles.
Let Volga's banks with iron squadrons shine,
blown, And arms employed on birds and beasts alone. Behold! the ascending villas on my side 375 Project long shadows o'er the crystal tide; Behold! Augusta's glittering spires increase, And temples rise, the beauteous works of peace. I see, I see, where two fair cities bend? Their ample bow, a new Whitehall ascend ! 380 There mighty nations shall inquire their doom, The world's great oracle in times to come; There kings shall sue, and suppliant states be
seen Once more to bend before a British Queen. « Thy trees, fair Windsor! now shall leave their woods,
385 And half thy forests rush into thy floods, Bear Britain's thunder, and her cross display, To the bright regions of the rising day : Tempt icy seas, where scarce the waters roll, Where clearer flames glow round the frozen pole;
i The fifty new churches.-P.
2 The two cities are London and Westminster. Inigo Jones had prepared designs for a new palace at Whitehall.
Or under southern skies exalt their sails, Led by new stars, and borne by spicy gales ! For me the balm shall bleed, and amber flow, The coral redden, and the ruby glow, The pearly shell its lucid globe infold, 395 And Phoebus warm the ripening ore to gold. The time shall come, when free as seas or wind, Unbounded Thames shall flow for all mankind, Whole nations enter with each swelling tide, And seas but join the regions they divide; 400 Earth's distant ends our glory shall behold, And the new world launch forth to seek the . old. Then ships of uncouth form shall stem the
tide, And feathered people crowd my wealthy side, And naked youths and painted chiefs admire 405 Our speech, our colour, and our strange attire! O stretch thy reign, fair Peace! from shore to
shore, Till conquest cease, and slavery be no more; Till the freed Indians in their native groves Reap their own fruits, and woo their sable
loves, Peru once more a race of kings behold, And other Mexicos be roofed with gold. Exiled by thee from earth to deepest hell, In brazen bonds, shall barbarous Discord dwell: Gigantic Pride, pale Terror, gloomy Care, 415 And mad Ambition shall attend her there : There purple Vengeance bathed in gore retires, Her weapons blunted, and extinct her fires : There hateful Envy her own snakes shall feel, And Persecution mourn her broken wheel: 420
1 A wish that London may be made a FREE PORT. -P.
There Faction roar, Rebellion bite her chain, And gasping Furies thirst for blood in vain.” Here cease thy flight, nor with unhallowed
lays Touch the fair fame of Albion's golden days : The thoughts of gods let Granville's verse recite,
425 And bring the scenes of opening fate to light: My humble Muse in unambitious strains, Paints the green forests and the flowery plains, Where Peace descending bids her olive spring, And scatters blessings from her dove-like wing. Ev'n I more sweetly pass my careless days, 431 Pleased in the silent shade with empty praise ; Enough for me, that to the listening swains First in these fields I sung the sylvan strains.