So ftrictly wert thou just to pay,

Ev'n to the driblet of a day.

Yet ftill we murmur and complain,

The quails and manna should no longer rain;
Thofe miracles 'twas needlefs to renew;

The chofen flock has now the promis'd land in view.
XV.

A warlike prince afcends the regal state, A prince long exercis'd by fate:

Long may he keep, though he obtains it late!

Heroes in heaven's peculiar mold are cast,

They and their poets are not form'd in hafte;

Man was the first in God's design, and man was made the laft.

Falfe heroes, made by flattery fo,

Heaven can strike out, like sparkles, at a blow;

But ere a prince is to perfection brought,

He cofts Omnipotence a fecond thought.
With toil and fweat,

With hardening cold, and forming heat,
The Cyclops did their ftrokes repeat,
Before th' impenetrable shield was wrought.
It looks as if the Maker would not own
The noble work for his,

Before 'twas try'd and found a mafter-piece.

XVI.

View then a monarch ripen'd for a throne. Alcides thus his race began,

O'er infancy he swiftly ran;

The future God at firft was more than man:
Dangers and toils, and Juno's hate

Ev'n o'er his cradle lay in wait;

And there he grappled firft with fate :

In his young hands the hiffing fnakes he preft,
So early was the Deity confeft;

Thus by degrees he rofe to Jove's imperial feat;
Thus difficulties prove a foul legitimately great.
Like his, our hero's infancy was try'd;
Betimes the Furies did their snakes provide;
And to his infant arms oppose

His father's rebels, and his brother's foes;
The more oppreft, the higher ftill he rofe:
Thofe were the preludes of his fate,
That form'd his manhood, to fubdue
The hydra of the many-headed hiffing crew.

XVII.

As, after Numa's peaceful reign,
The martial Ancus did the fcepter wield,
Furbish'd the rufty fword again,
Refum'd the long-forgotten hield,
And led the Latins to the dufty field;
So James the drowsy genius wakes
Of Britain long entranc'd in charms,
Reftiff and flumbering on its arms :

'Tis rous'd, and with a new-ftrung nerve, the spear already fhakes.

No neighing of the warrior fteeds,

No drum, or louder trumpet, needs

T'infpire the coward, warm the cold,

His voice, his fole appearance makes them bold.

Gaul

Gaul and Batavia dread th' impending blow;

Too well the vigour of that arm they know;

They lick the duft, and crouch beneath their fatal foe,
Long may they fear this awful prince,

And not provoke his lingering fword;
Peace is their only fure defence,

Their beft fecurity 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 ftain ;

With conqueft bafely bought, and with inglorious gain.

XVIII.

For once, O heaven, unfold thy adamantine book; And let his wondering senate see,

If not thy firm immutable decree,

At least the fecond page of ftrong contingency;
Such as confifts with wills originally free :
Let them with glad amazement look

On what their happiness may be :
Let them not ftill be obftinately blind,
Still to divert the good thou haft defign'd,
Or with malignant penury,

To ftarve the royal virtues of his mind.

Faith is a chriftian's and a fubject's teft,

Oh give them to believe, and they are furely bleft.

They do; and with a diftant view I fee
Th'amended vows of English loyalty.

And

And all beyond that object, there appears
The long retinue of a profperous reign,
A feries of fuccessful years,

In orderly array, a martial, manly train.
Behold ev'n the remoter fhores,

A conquering navy proudly fpread;
The British cannon formidably roars,
While, ftarting from his oozy bed,

Th' afferted ocean rears his reverend head;
To view and recognize his ancient lord again :
And, with a willing hand, reftores

The fafces of the main.

VENI CREATOR SPIRITUS,

PARAPHRASED.

REATOR fpirit, by whofe aid

The world's foundations firft were laid,

Come vifit every pious mind;

Come pour thy joys on human kind;

From fin and forrow fet us free,

And make thy temples worthy thee.
O fource of uncreated light,
The Father's promifed Paraclete!
Thrice holy fount, thrice holy fire,
Our hearts with Leavenly love infpire;
Come, and thy facred unction bring
To fanctify us, while we fing.
Plenteous of grace, defcend from high,
Rich in thy fevenfold energy!

Thou

Thou ftrength of his Almighty hand,

Whofe power does heaven and earth command.
Proceeding fpirit, our defence,

Who doft the gifts of tongues difpenfe,
And crown'ft thy gift with eloquence!
Refine and purge our earthly parts;
But, oh, inflame and fire our hearts!
Our frailties help, our vice controul,
Submit the fenfes to the foul;
And when rebellious they are grown,
Then lay thy hand, and hold them down.
Chace from our minds th' infernal foe,
And peace, the fruit of love, bestow;
And, left our feet fhould ftep aftray,
Protect and guide us in the way.

Make us eternal truths receive,
And practise all that we believe:
Give us thyself, that we may fee
The Father, and the Son, by thee.
Immortal honour, endlefs fame,
Attend th' Almighty Father's name:
The Saviour Son be glorify'd,
Who for loft man's redemption dy'd :
And equal adoration be,

Eternal Paraclete, to thee.

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