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So strictly wert thou just to pay,
Ev'n 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.

XV.
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 mold are cast,
They and their poets are not form’d in haste
Man was the firit in God's design, and man was made

the last.
False heroes, made by fiattery 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 hardening cold, and forming heat,
The Cyclops did their strokes repeat,
Before th’ impenetrable Mield was wrought.
It looks as if the Maker would not own
The noble work for his,
Before 'twas try'd and found a master-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 firit was more than man :
Dangers and toils, and Juno's hate

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Ev’n o'er his cradle lay in wait;
And there he grappled first with fate :
In his young hands the hissing snakes he prest,
So early was the Deity confeft;
Thus by degrees he rose to Jove's imperial seat ;
Thus difficulties prove a soul 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 still he rose :
Those were the preludes of his fate,
That form’d his manhood, to subdue
The hydra of the many-headed hisfing crew.

XVII.
As, after Numa's peaceful reign,
The martial Ancus did the scepter wield,
Furbilh'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 aris :
'Tis rous’d, and with a new-strung nerve, the spear

already fakes.
No neighing of the warrior steeds,
No drum, or louder trumpet, needs
T'inspire the coward, warm the cold,
His voice, his sole appearance makes them bold.

Gaul

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Gaul and Batavia drea:i th' 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 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 second page of strong contingency ;
Such as consists with wills originally free :

Let them with glad amazeinent look

On what their happiness may be :
Let them not still be obstinately blind,
Still to divert the good thou hast defign'd,
Or with malignant penury,
To starve the royal virtues of his mind.
faith is a chriftian's and a subject's telt,
Oh give them to believe, and they are surely blest.

They do; and with a distant view I see
Th’amended vows of English loyalty.

And

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 ev'n the remoter shores,
A conquering navy proudly spread;
The British cannon formidably roars,
While, starting from his oozy bed,
Th' asserted ocean rears his reverend head;
To view and recognize his ancient lord again :
And, with a willing hand, restores
The fasces of the main.

VENI CREATOR SPIRITUS,

PARAPHRASED.

C
REATOR fpirit, by whose aici

The world's foundations first were laid,
Come visit every pious mind;
Come pour thy joys on human kind;
From fin and forrow set is free,
And make thy temples worthy thee.

O fource of uncreated light,
The Faiher's promised Paraclete!
Thrice holy fount, thrice holy fire,
Our hearts with heavenly love inspire ;
Come, and thy sacred unction bring
To fanétify us, while we sing.

Plenteous of grace, descend from high,
Rich in thy sevenfold energy !

Th

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Thou strength of his Almighty hand,
Whose power does heaven and earth command.
Proceeding spirit, our defence,
Who dost the gifts of tongues dispense,
And crown'st 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 senses to the soul ;
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 should step astray,
Prciect and guide us in the way.

Make us eternal truths receive,
And practise all that we believe :
Give us thyself, that we may see
The Father, and the Son, by thee,

Immortal honour, endless fame,
Attend th' Almighty Father's name :
The Saviour Son be glorify'd,
Who for lost man’s redemption dy'd :
And equal adoration be,
Eternal Paraclete, to thee.

THE

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