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(Now Bishop of Worcester.)

Be still my fears, suggest no false alarms;

The Poet's rapture and the lyric fire
Are vain : enough that inclination warms;
No foreign influence needs the willing Muse inspire.
The willing Muse, adventurous in her flight,

Tothee,lov'd Peace,shallraise the untaught strain;
Her thy fair triumphs and thy arts delight,
Thy festive branch she bears and joins thy social train.

High on some wave-worn cliff she views serene,

Safe on the deep, the freighted navies ride ;
Old Ocean joys to see the peaceful scene,
And bids his billows roll with an exulting tide.

Or, where Augusta's turrets cleave the skies,

She loves to mix with Art's inventive band,
Sees Industry in forms unnumber'd rise,
To scatter blessings wide, and civilize the land ;

Or flies, with transport, to her native plain,
Sees corn-clad fields, fresh lawns, and pastures

fair, Sees Plenty vindicate her ancient reign, And pour forth all her charms to crown the various


But chief the Muse to Academic groves

Her kindred train and best-lov'd arts invite; Thro' Cam's o'ershadowing bowers intranc'd she

roves, Whence sacred Science streams, and Genius spreads

his light. • Here will I rest, she cry'd; my laurel here

• Eternal blooms; here hangs my golden lyre, " Which erst my Spenser tun’d to shepherd's ear, • And loftiest Milton smote with genuine epic fire. * And O1 if aught my fond presages shew, On these lov'd bowers while Peace her influence

sheds. • Some hand again shall snatch it from the bough, Wake each high-sounding string, and charm the

echoing glades.

• Then shall be sung the glorious deeds of war,

• How Virtue strove, where envious Fortune sail'd: • Expecting Fame the conflict view'd from far, * And Britain's valor crown'd, tho' Gallia's host pre


• Yet then, even then (th’indignant verse shall tell)

• A surer vengeance rose to whelm the foe : · When hell-born Faction issu'd from her cell, « And on her impious head drew half the destin'd


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• But, hark! the loud triumphant strains declare,

• How Britain's majesty unrivall'd rose, • When all the glories of the naval war • Beam'd round her conquering flag, and circled An

son's brows.'


Till thus the Power by Freedom's sons obey'd :

• Let blood-stain'd glory swell the tyrant's breast; • Be mine Compassion's healing wing to spread, • To sheath the wasting sword, and give the nations


• Then (as the Muse enraptur'd shall display)

War’s impious roar, and Faction's murmurs cease; • His gracious eye sheds lustre on the day, "And lends the quickening beam to cheer the arts of


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Whilst William's deeds and William's praise Each English breast with transport raise,

Each English tongue employ; Say, Poyntz, if thy elated heart Assume not a superior part,

A larger share of joy?

But that thy country's high affairs
Employ thy time, demand thy cares,

You should renew your flight;
You only should this theme pursue-
Who can for William feel like you?

Or who like you can write?

Then to rehearse the Hero's praise,
To paint this sunshine of his days,

The pleasing task be mine
To think on all thy cares o'erpaid,
To view the Hero you have made,

That pleasing part be thine.

Who first should watch, and who call forth This youthful Prince's various worth,

You had the public voice; Wisely his royal Sire consign'd To you the culture of his mind,

And England blest the choice.

You taught him to be early known
By martial deeds of courage shewn:

From this, near Mona's flood,
By his victorious Father led,
He flesh'd his maiden sword, he shed,

And prov'd th’illustrious blood.

Of Virtue's various charms you taught,
What happiness and glory fraught,

How her unshaken power
Is independent of success;
That no defeat can make it less,

No conquest make it more.

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