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But, to thy sovereign penetration, fair,
Before whom all things are, that were,
All judgments that have been, or e'er shall be;
Links in the chain of thy tranquillity!
Along the bosom of this favoured Nation,
Breathe Thou, this day, a vital undulation!
Let all who do this land inherit

Be conscious of Thy moving spirit!
the sight,

Oh, 'tis a goodly Ordinance,

Though sprung from bleeding war, is one of pure delight;
Bless Thou the hour, or ere the hour arrive,
When a whole people shall kneel down in prayer,
And, at one moment, in one rapture, strive
With lip and heart to tell their gratitude
For Thy protecting care,

Their solemn joy — praising the Eternal Lord
For tyranny subdued,

And for the sway of equity renewed,
For liberty confirmed, and peace restored!


But hark-the summons!-down the placid Lake Floats the soft cadence of the Church-tower bells; Bright shines the Sun, as if his beams might wake The tender insects sleeping in their cells;

Bright shines the Sun and not a breeze to shake
The drops that tip the melting icicles.

O, enter now his temple gate!

Inviting words — perchance already flung,
(As the crowd press devoutly down the aisle
Of some old Minster's venerable pile)
From voices into zealous passion stung,

While the tubed engine feels the inspiring blast,
And has begun its clouds of sound to cast
Towards the empyreal Heaven,

As if the fretted roof were riven.

Us, humbler ceremonies now await;
But in the bosom, with devout respect
The banner of our joy we will erect,
And strength of love our souls shall elevate:
For to a few collected in his name,
Their heavenly Father will incline an ear
Gracious to service hallowed by its aim;
Awake! the majesty of God revere!


and with foreheads meekly bowed go- and rejoice aloud The Holy One will hear!

Present your prayers

And what, 'mid silence deep, with faith sincere,
Ye, in your low and undisturbed estate,

Shall simply feel and purely meditate

Of warnings from the unprecedented might,
Which, in our time, the impious have disclosed;
And of more arduous duties thence imposed
Upon the future advocates of right;

Of mysteries revealed,

And judgments unrepealed, —
Of earthly revolution,

And final retribution,

To his omniscience will appear

An offering not unworthy to find place,

On this high DAY of THANKS, before the Throne of Grace!


Sonnet xx. p. 277.

In this and a former Sonnet, in honour of the same Sovereign, let me be understood as a Poet availing himself of the situation which the King of Sweden occupied, and of the principles avowed in his manifestos; as laying hold of these advantages for the purpose of embodying moral truths. This remark might, perhaps, as well have been suppressed; for to those who may be in sympathy with the course of these Poems, it will be superfluous; and will, I fear, be thrown away upon that other class, whose besotted admiration of the intoxicated despot here placed in contrast with him, is the most melancholy evidence of degradation in British feeling and intellect which the times have furnished.

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Sonnet xxxvii. p. 287.

The event is thus recorded in the journals of the day: -" When the Austrians took Hockheim, in one part of the engagement they got to the brow of the hill, whence they had their first view of the Rhine. They instantly halted not a gun was fired not a voice heard: they stood gazing on the river with those feelings which the events of the last fifteen years at once called up. Prince Schwartzenberg rode up to know the cause of this sudden stop; they then gave three cheers, rushed after the enemy, and drove them into the water."

Sonnet xli. p. 289.

"He conquering through God," &c.
Ond'è ch' Io grido e griderò: giugnesti,
Guerregiasti, e vincesti;

Si, si, vincesti, o Campion forte e pio,
Per Dio vincesti, e per te vinse Iddio.

See Filicaia's Canzone, addressed to John Sobieski, king of Poland, upon his raising the siege of Vienna. This, and his other poems on the same occasion, are superior perhaps to any lyrical pieces that contemporary events have ever given birth to, those of the Hebrew Scriptures only excepted.

Thanksgiving Ode, page 304. line 5.

"And discipline was passion's dire excess.'

"A discipline the rule whereof is passion." — LORD BROOK.

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