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Of Smithfield lightened in its eyes anew.
Yet filence reign'd. Each on another scowl'd
Rueful amazement, pressing down his rage:
As, mustering vengeance, the deep thunder frowns,
Awfully still, waiting the high command


To fpring. Strait from his country Europe fav'd,
To fave BRITANNIA, lo! my darling Son,
Than hero more! the patriot of mankind!
Immortal NASSAU came. I hush'd the deep
By Demons rous'd, and bade the + listed winds,
Still shifting as behov'd, with various breath,
Waft the DELIVERER to the longing shore.
See! wide alive, the foaming ‡ Channel bright.
With fwelling fails, and all the pride of war,
Delightful view! when Juftice draws the sword:
And mark! diffufing ardent soul around,
And fweet contempt of death, My streaming * flag.


+ The Prince of Orange in his paffage to England, though his fleet had been at first dispersed by a storm, was afterward's extremely favour'd by feveral changes of wind.

Rapin, in his history of England.The third of November the fleet entered the Channel, and lay by between Calais and Dover, to stay for the fhips that were behind. Here the Prince called a council of war. It is easy to imagine what a glorious fhow the fleet made. Five or fix hundred ships in fo narrow a channel, and both the English and French fhores coverIed with numberless fpectators, are no common fight. For my part, who was then on board the fleet, I own it struck me extremely.

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* The Prince placed himself in the main body, carrying a flag with English colours, and their Highneffes' arms furrounded with this motto, THE PROTESTANT RELIGION AND THE LIBERTIES OF ENGLAND; and underneath the motto of the house of Nassau, Jɛ MAINTIENDRAI, I will maintain. RAPIN.'


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Even adverse + navies blefs'd the binding gale,
Kept down the glad acclaim, and filent joy'd.
Arriv'd, the pomp, and not the waste of arms
His progress mark'd. The faint-oppofing || hoft 1130
For once, in yielding, their best victory found,
And by desertion prov'd exalted faith;
While his the bloodless conquest of the heart,
Shouts without groan, and triumph without war.
Then dawn'd the period deftin'd to confine 1133
The furge of wild Prerogative, to raise
A mound restraining its imperious rage,
And bid the raving deep no farther flow.
Nor were,
without that fence, the swallow'd state
Better than Belgian plains without their dykes, 1140
Sustaining weighty feas. This, often fav'd
By more than human hand, the public saw,
And feiz'd the white-wing'd moment. § Pleas'd to yield
Destructive power, a wife ‡ heroic prince
Even lent his aid-Thrice happy! did they know 1145
What tho' not theirs the boast, in dungeon glooms,
To plunge bold Freedom; or, to chearless wilds,
To drive him from the cordial face of friend;
Or fierce to ftrike him at the midnight hour,
By mandate blind, not justice, that delights
To dare the keenest eye of open day.
What tho' no glory to controul the laws,
And make injurious Will their only rule,
They deem it. What tho', tools of wanton power,

Peftiferous Armies fwarin not at their call.


What tho they give not a relentless crew

+ The English fleet.
The King's army.
§ By the Bill of Rights, and the Alt of Succeffion.
+ William III.



Of Civil Furies, proud Oppreffion's fangs!
To tear at pleasure the dejected land,
With ftarving labour pampering idle wafte.
To clothe the naked, feed the hungry, wipe
The guiltless tear from lone affliction's eye ;
To raise hid Merit, set th' alluring light
Of Virtue high to view; to nourish Arts,
= Direct the thunder of an injur'd state,



Make a whole glorious people fing for joy, Bless human-kind, and thro' the downward depth Of future times to spread that better Sun Which lights up British Soul: for deeds like thefe, The dazzling fair career unbounded lyes; While (still fuperior blifs) the dark abrupt Is kindly barr'd: the precipice of ill. Oh luxury divine! Oh poor to this, Ye giddy glories of Defpotic thrones ! By this, by this indeed, is imag'd HEAVEN, By boundless Good, without the power of Ill. And now, behold! exalted as the cope That fwells immenfe o'er many-peopled earth, And like it free, My FABRIC ftands compleat, The PALACE OF THE LAWS. To the four heavens Four gates impartial thrown, unceasing crouds, 1181 With Kings themselves the hearty peasant mix'd, Pour urgent in. And tho' to different ranks Refponfive place belongs, yet equal spreads The sheltering roof o'er all; while Plenty flows, 1185 And glad Contentment echoes round the whole. Ye floods defcend! Ye winds confirming, blow! Nor outward tempeft, nor corrofive time, Nought but the felon undermining hand Of dark CORRUPTION, can its frame diffolve, 1190 And lay the toil of ages in the dust.


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