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Ere, quite expiring, on the base Earth fail
The trodden spark of Loyalty.
The Eye that never sleeps
Will guide us o'er the deeps.
FELLOW OF ORIEL COLLEGE.
a See Clarendon, VI. 1184. edit. Oxf. 1819. “ The Lord Lieute
nant, about the middle of December, 1650, embarked himself in a “ small vessel for France, after he had refused to receive a pass from “ Ireton, who offered it; choosing rather to trust the seas and winds, “ in that rough and boisterous season of the year, than to receive an
obligation from the rebels.”
WARRIOR of warriors ! are thine arms laid down?
Her hard-won fights, and deeds in battle done, But thine own glorious fame, immortal Wellington !
Amid these ancient walls the peaceful muse Sings by her limpid fountain—who shall cast Over thy laurel wreaths a flood of dews Gleaned from the choicest blossoms of the past, With which embued they shall for ever last ; Like some cropt bough within a fairy spring, That, sheltered there, and reckless of the blast,
Becomes an heavenly, and eternal thing, A galaxy of gems, in endless blossoming!
No battle standards here the breeze has fanned No arms have gleamed beneath the sunbeam's light, Since Charles's bugles called his gallant band To peril all in battle for the right. O! hadst thou marshalled forth one equal fight, Could they have had one day-one hour of thee, Then Marston Moor had seen another sight,
And heard such shouts, as far beyond the sea, On Salamanca's plain gave note of victory.
Such things may be no more—but who can know What in the storehouse of the future lies ? For happiness has smoothed the way to woe, And storms have slumbered deep in cloudless skies. Yet, whatsoe'er it be, whene'er it rise, Who but shall rush to meet it undismayed, While there is One, on whom his country's eyes
May turn with stedfast hope of present aid ; One who will never rest till that fell storm be stayed.
But why should aught but joyful thoughts intrude On this bright day, when Oxford hastes to greet Him whom of old with love and hope she viewed, To take amid her bowers his chosen seat. In such an hour as this it is not meet
To name one single thought akin to fear :
say, “Well may thy name to us be dear ; Hadst thou not warred for us, that
had not been here.”
The bond can ne'er be loosed: while Oxford stands,
In after-times--and how thy glory grew,
But wherefore dare to praise thee? thou hast quaff’d Thy fill of nobler, and of worthier praise : And mighty men have mixed the honied draught, And bards have cast therein their sweetest lays— Men who shall live with thee in future days— Gifted with endless fame-yet not as thouBut rather as the sunbeam's light that plays
Far o'er the hills, on some blue mountain's brow, That is but seen, because the hill receives its glow.
Στροφή. Χρυσοδαιδάλοισι Νίκα πτερούς, οπαδός κλέους κελεύθων, ως αιετος ευφίλητον υπέρ σκόπελον, άμαιμακέτoισι πόντου εν βύθοισιν, ουρανο
μήκη κίονα, σοίς περί στροφοδινείται κροτάφοις, ώ φέριστον άγαλμα γαίας σε δε και έρεισμα χώρας, Ειράνα πόλει υπέστασεν, έν τ' αρχαίς καν νόμοις άμα κλεινότατον κάρα. Ει δέ τις αγλαΐαισι συν αμφοτέραις
'Αντιστροφή. άρματι ζεύγνυσι δαιδα
λόεντι Μοισαν φίλων άωτον, εις άκρον έθηκε δαιμόνιον βάθρον αρετάς ποδ', επαξίοις τι
μαϊσιν εύ μεμιγμένης.