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Ye wing’d, ye rapid moments ! stay:

Oh friend ! as deaf as rapid, they ;
Life's little drama done, the curtain falls !

Dost thou not hear it? I can hear,

Though nothing strikes the listening ear;
Time his last! Eternal loudly calls !

Nor calls in vain; the call inspires

Far other counsels and desires,
Than once prevail'd; we stand on higher ground;

What scenes we see !--Exalted aim !

With ardours new, our spirits flame; Ambition blest! with more than laurels crown'd.


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A SE . A . P I I E C Ε.




N lofty sounds let those delight

I fight;

And, bold in word, of arms decline the stroke:

"Tis mean to boast; but great to lend

To foes the counsel of a friend,
And warn them of the vengeance they provoke.

From whence arise these loud alarms ?

Why gleams the south with brandish'd arms ? War, bath'd in blood, from curst ambition springs :

Ambition ! mean, ignoble pride!

Perhaps their ardours may subfide,
When weigh'd the wonders Britain's failor sings.

Hear, and revere. --At Britain's nod,

From each enchanted grove and wood
Haftes the huge oak, or shadeless forest leaves;

The mountain pines assume new forms,

Spread canvas-wings, and fly through storms, And ride o'er rocks, and dance on foaming waves.

IV, She

She nods again : the labouring earth

Discloses a tremendous birth;
In smoaking rivers runs her molten ore;

Thence monsters of enormous size,

And hideous aspect, threatening rife,
Flame from the deck, from trembling baitions roar.

These ministers of fate fulfil,

On empires wide, an island's will,
When thrones unjust wake vengeance: know, ye powers!

In sudden night, and ponderous balls,

And floods of fame, the tempeft falls,
When bray'd Britannia's awful senate lowers.

In her * grand council (ne surveys,

In patriot picture, what may raise,
Of insolent attempts, a warin disilain ;

From hope's triumphant fummit thrown,

Like darted lightning, fiviftly down
The wealth of Ind, and confidence of Spain.

Britannia sheaths her courage keen,

And spares her nitrous magazine;
Her cannon slumber, till the proud aspire,

And leave all law below them; then they blaze !

They thunder from resounding seas, Touch'd by their injur'd master's foul of fire.


VIII. Then * House of Lords.


Then furies rise ! the battle raves !

And rends the skies ! and warms the wayes ! And calls a tempest from the peaceful deep,

In spite of nature, spite of Jove,

While all-ferere, and hush'd above,
Tumultuous winds in azure chambers sleep.

A thousand deaths the bursting bomb

Hurls from her disembowel'd womb;
Chain'd, glowing globes, in dread alliance join'd,

Red-wing d by strong, fulphureous blafts,

Sweep, in black whirlwinds, men and masts ; And leave fing'd, naked, blood-drown’d, decks behind.

Dwarf laurels rise in tented fields;

The wreath immortal ocean yields;
There war’s whole sting is shot, whole fare is spent,

Whole glory blooms: how pale, how tame,

How lambent is Bellona's fiame;
How her atorms ianguish on the continent !

From the dread front of antient war

Less terror frown'd; her scythed car,
Her castled elephant, and battering beam,

Stoop to those engines which deny

Superior terrors to the sky, And boast their clouds, their thunder, and their fame. 5

XII. The

The flame, the thunder, and the cloud,

The night by day, the sea of blood,
Hosts whirl'd in air, the yell of sinking throngs,

The graveless dead, an ocean warm’d,

A firmament by mortals storm’d,
To patient Britain's angry brow belongs.

Or do I dream? Or do I rave?

Or see I Vulcan's footy cave;
Where Jove's red bolts the giant brothers frame?

Those swarthy gods of toil and beat,

Loud peals on mountain anvils beat,
And panting tempests rouze the roaring flame.

Ye sons of Ætna ! hear my call;

Unfinish'd let those baubles fall,
Yon shield of Mars, Minerva's helmet blue :

Your strokes fufpend, ye brawny throng!

Charm'd by the magic of my song,
Drop the feign'd thunder, and attempt the true.

Begin : * and first take rapid flight,

Fierce flame, and clouds of thickest night,
And ghastly terror, paler than the dead ;

Then borrow from the north his roar,

and deaths; one phial pour
Of wrong'd Britannia's wrath ; and it is made;
Gaul starts and tremblesat your dreadful trade.


O DE Alluding to Virgii's Description of Thunder

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