Tho' shorter lines her fix'd dominions bind,
Her floating empire stretches unconfin'd.
From Thetis' stores, and not her neighbours' spoils,
She draws her treasure, fruit of honest toils.
Rome sack'd, and plunder'd; Britain clothes and feeds;
Acquires their riches, but supplies their needs.
Sweet seat of freedom! he thy happier doom,
To 'scape the fate, as well as guilt of Rome:
Where riot, offspring of unwieldy store,
Enery'd those arms, that snatch'd the spoil before;
With costly cates she stain'd her frugal board,
Then with ill-gotten gold she bought a lord.
Corruption, discord, luxury combin'd,
Down sunk the far-fam'd mistress of mankind.
Hear righ'eous Prince! O hear us loud invoke
Thy worth anblemish'd, to avert this stroke :
Yourself so free from ev'ry lawless view,
You scarce admit the homage that is due.
Let other monarchs, with invasive bands, *
Lessen their people, and extend their lands;
By gasping nations hated and obey'd,
Lords of the deserts, that their sword has made;
For thee kind heav'n, a nobler task design'd,
To fix thy empire on thy people's mind;
High on thy British throne, to mark from far,
And calm the billows of the rising war;
To smooth the frowns on fair Europa's face,
And force reluctant nations to embrace.
Esto tibi, O libertatis pafcherrima sedes !
Sors melior, nescire et fala et crimina Romæ,
Cui studiosa dapum inventrix, ct prodiga mensæ
Luxuries, et copia imers, visuque libido
Obscœna, in tantum nervos animosque resolvit,
Degener ut prorsus morum, fæcundaque culpæ,
Servitii pretiosa empirix, plebemque patresque
Corrupta, et discors armis, et perdita luxu,
Corruerit victrix orbis, rerumque potita.
O pater! O princeps! nec frustra assuefe vocari : Audi, obtestamur majestatemque fidemque Virtutemque tuam, nobisque averte malorum
Hanc faciem; ipse adeo procul ambitionis ab œstro, Ut tibi vix solvi meritos patiaris honores.
Injustis alii reges dominentur in armis,
Quos aut cædis amor, famæve insana cupido
Imperii fines late signare ruina
Impulit, et vacui deserta extendere regni :
Hæ tibi sunt artes, cœlo O charissime princeps!
Excelso a solio procul observare procellam
Nascentem, et belli primos compescere fluctus ;
Contractam terrore Europæ expandere frontem,
Ducere in amplexum populos, et fædere gentes
Jungere, et in pacem luctantia cogere regna.
Utque tuam adversi nuper cum murmure venti
Frangere paulisper conati, egere Britannum
Ad portum, et tuto posuere in littore navem :
Sic quæ jam stragem intentat felicibus Anglis
As late the jarring winds, with mingled roar,
Struggled to wreck, yet wafted you to shore :
So shall the storm, that threats your peaceful land,
Roll harmless o'er, or burst where you command.
Tempestas, sævitque minis, martemque lacessit,
Te medium belli pacisque ubi senserit, ultro
Innocuos fluctus Britonum devolvet ab oris,
Et frustra inceptas ponet submissior iras.
QUE CENTUM ANNORUM ÆTATEM, IPSO DIE NATALI EXPLEVIT ET CLAUSIT, ANNO 1728.
SINGULARIS prodigium O senectæ,
Et novum exemplum diuturnitatis !
Cujus annorum series in amplam
Vulgus infelix hominum, dies, en !
Computo quam dispare computamus !
Quam tua a summa procul est remota
Pabulum nos luxuriesque lethi,
Nos, simul nati, incipimus perire ;
Nos statim a cunis cita destinamur
Occulit mors insidias, ubi vix
Vix opinari est, rapidæve febris
Vim repentinam, aut male pertinacis
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