VIII. Ye wing'd, ye rapid moments! stay: Though nothing strikes the listening ear; Time groans IX. Nor calls in vain; the call infpires Than once prevail'd; we stand on higher ground; With ardours new, our fpirits flame; VOL. III. P À SEA A SE A-PIECE. ODE THE FIRST. THE BRITISH SAILOR'S EXULTATION. I. N lofty founds let thofe delight I who brave the foe, but fear the fight; And, bold in word, of arms decline the ftroke: And warn them of the vengeance they provoke. II. From whence arife thefe loud alarms? Why gleams the fouth with brandish'd arms? War, bath'd in blood, from curft ambition springs: Ambition! mean, ignoble pride! Perhaps their ardours may subside, III. Hear, and revere.-At Britain's nod, From each enchanted grove and wood Haftes the huge oak, or shadeless forest leaves; The mountain pines affume new forms, Spread canvas-wings, and fly through storms, And ride o'er rocks, and dance on foaming waves. IV. She IV. She nods again: the labouring earth In fmoaking rivers runs her molten ore; And hideous afpect, threatening rise, Thefe minifters of fate fulfil, On empires wide, an island's will, When thrones unjust wake vengeance: know, ye powers! * VI. In her grand council fhe furveys, In patriot picture, what may raise, From hope's triumphant fummit thrown, The wealth of Ind, and confidence of Spain. Britannia fheaths her courage keen, And spares her nitrous magazine; Her cannon flumber, till the proud afpire, And leave all law below them; then they blaze! They thunder from refounding feas, Touch'd by their injur'd master's foul of fire. Q2 * House of Lords. VIII. Then VIII. Then furies rife! the battle raves ! And rends the fkies! and warms the waves ! IX. A thousand deaths the bursting bomb Hurls from her difembowel'd womb; Chain'd, glowing globes, in dread alliance join'd, Red-wing'd by ftrong, fulphureous blafts, Sweep, in black whirlwinds, men and mafts; And leave fing'd, naked, blood-drown'd, decks behind X. Dwarf laurels rife in tented fields; There war's whole sting is shot, whole fire is spent, How her ftorms ianguish on the continent ! ΧΙ. From the dread front of antient war Lefs terror frown'd; her fcythed car, Her caftled elephant, and battering beam, Stoop to thofe engines which deny Superior terrors to the sky, And boast their clouds, their thunder, and their flame. 5 XII. The XII. The flame, the thunder, and the cloud, A firmament by mortals storm'd, Or do I dream? Or do I rave? Where Jove's red bolts the giant brothers frame? Loud peals on mountain anvils beat, Ye fons of Ætna! hear my call Yon fhield of Mars, Minerva's helmet blue: Drop the feign'd thunder, and attempt the true. Begin and firft take rapid flight, : Fierce flame, and clouds of thickest night, Of wrong'd Britannia's wrath; and it is made; Q3 ODE Alluding to Virgil's Defcription of Thunder |