XI.

Ten thoufand active hands, that hung
In shameful sloth with nerves unftrung,
The nations languid load, defy the storms,
The fheets unfurl, and anchors weigh,
The long-moor'd vessel wing to sea,
Worlds, worlds falute, and peopled ocean fwarms.

XII.

His fons, Po, Ganges, Danube, Nile,
Their fedgy foreheads lift, and fmile;
Their urns inverted prodigally pour

Streams, charg'd with wealth, and vow to buy
Britannia for their great ally,

With climes paid down; what can the gods do more?

XIII.

Cold Ruffia coftly furs from far,

Hot China fends her painted jar,

France generous wines to crown it, Arab fweet

With gales of incenfe fwells cur fails,

Nor diftant Ind our merchant fails, Her richeft ore the ballaft of our fleet.

XIV.

Luxuriant ifle! What tide that flows,

Or ftream that glides, or wind that blows,
Or genial fun that fhines, or fhower that pours,

But flows, glides, breathes, fhines, pours for thee?
How every heart dilates to fee

Each land's each feafon blending on thy fhores!

XV.

All these one British harvest make !

The fervant Ocean for thy fake

Both finks and fwells: his arms thy bofom wrap,
And fondly give, in boundless dower,
To mighty George's growing power,
The wafted world into thy loaded lap.

XVI.

Commerce brings riches, riches crown
Fair Virtue with the first renown:
A large revenue, and a large expence,
When hearts for others welfare glow,
And spend as free as gods beftow,,
Gives the full bloom to mortal excellence.

XVII.

Glow then my breaft! abound my store!
This, and this boldly, I implore,
Their want and apathy let Stoicks boast:
Paffions and riches, good or ill,

As us'd by man, demand our skill;
All bleffings wound us, when difcretion 's loft.

XVIII.

Wealth, in the virtuous and the wise,
'Tis vice and folly to despise:

Let those in praise of poverty refine,

Whose heads or hearts pervert its use, The narrow-foul'd, or the profufe, The truly-great find morals in the mine;

XIX. Happy

XIX.

Happy the man! who, large of heart,
Has learnt the rare, illustrious art
Of being rich: ftores farve us, or they cloy;
From gold, if more than chemic skill,
Extract not what is brighter ftill:
'Tis hard to gain, much harder to enjoy.

XX.

Plenty 's a means, and joy her end :
Exalted minds their joys extend:

A Chandos fhines, when others' joys are done:
As lofty turrets, by their height,
When humbler scenes refign their light,
Retain the rays of the declining fun.

XXI.

Pregnant with bleffings, Britain! fwear
No fordid son of thine shall dare
Offend the donor of thy wealth and peace;
Who now his whole creation drains

To

pour into thy tumid veins

That blood of nations! commerce and increase.

XXII.

How various Nature! turgid grain
Here nodding floats the golden plain;

There, worms weave filken webs; here, glowing vines
Lay forth their purple to the fun,

Beneath the foil, there harvests run,

And kings' revenues ripen in the mines.

XXIII.

What 's various Nature? Art divine

Man's foul to foften and refine;

Heaven different growths to different lands imparts That all may ftand in need of all,

And intereft draw around the ball, A net to catch and join all human hearts.

XXIV.

Thus has the great Creator's pen
His law fupreme, to mortal men,
In their neceffities diftinctly writ:

Ev'n appetite fupplies the place
Of abfent virtue, abfent grace,

And human want performs for human wit..

XXV.

Vaft naval enfigns ftrow'd around
The wondering foreigner confound!
How ftands the deep-aw'd continent aghaft,
As her proud fcepter'd fons furvey,

At every port, on every quay,

Huge mountains rife, of cable, anchor, maft?

XXVI.

Th' unwieldy tun! the ponderous bale!Each prince his own clime set to sale Sees here, by fubjects of a British king:

How earth's abridg'd! all nations range A narrow fpot, our throng'd Exchange! And fend the streams of plenty from their fpring. XXVII. Nor

XXVII.

Nor earth alone, all Nature bends

In aid to Britain's glorious ends :
Toils the in trade? or bleeds in honeft wars?
Her keel each yielding sea enthrals,

Each willing wind her canvas calls,
Her pilot into fervice lifts the stars.

XXVIII.

In fize confin'd, and humbly made, What though we creep beneath the shade, And feem as emmets on this point, the ball? Heaven lighted-up the human foul,

Heaven bid its rays tranfpierce the whole, And, giving godlike Reason, gave us All.,

XXIX.

Thou golden chain 'twixt God and men,
Bleft Reason! guide my life and pen;
All ills, like ghofts, fly trembling at thy light:
Who thee obeys, reigns over all;
Smiles, though the ftars around him fall;
A God is nought but Reafon Infinite.

XXX.

The man of Reafon is a God

Who fcorns to ftoop to Fortune's nod; Sole Agent he beneath the fhining sphere, Others are paffive, are impell'd,

Are frighten'd, flatter'd, funk, or fwell'd,

As accident is pleas'd to domineer.

XXXI. Our