XXIII.

Britain! To these, and fuch as these, The river broad, and foaming feas Which fever lands to mortals less renown'd, Devoid of naval skill or might;

Those fever'd parts of earth unite : Trade's the full pulse, that fends their vigour round.

XXIV.

Could, O could one engroffing hand

The various ftreams of Trade command, That, like the fun, would gazing nations awe; That awful Power the world would brave, Bold War, and Empire proud, his flave; Mankind his fubjects; and his Will, their law.

XXV.

Haft thou look'd round the spacious earth? From Commerce, Grandeur's humble birth: To George from Noah, empires living, dead, Their pride, their fhame, their rife, their fall, Time's whole plain chronicle is all

One bright encomium, undefign'd, on Trade.

XXVI.

Trade fprings from Peace, and Wealth from Trade, And Power from Wealth; of Power is made The God on Earth: hail, then, the dove of Peace! Whofe olive speaks the raging flood

Of war reprefs'd: what's lofs of blood?

War is the death of Commerce and Increase.

1

XXVII. Then

XXVII.

Then perish War!-Detested War!

Shalt thou make Gods? light Cæfar's ftar?
What calls man fool fo loud as this has done,
From Nimrod's down to Bourbon's line?
Why not adore too, as divine,
Wide-wafting ftorms, before the genial fun?

XXVIII.

Peace is the Merchant's fummer clear! His harvest harvest round the year! For Peace with laurel every maft be bound; Each deck caroufe, each flag ftream out, Each cannon found, each failor shout! For Peace let every sacred ship be crown'd!

XXIX.

Sacred are fhips, of birth divine!
An angel drew the first defign;

With which the Patriarch Nature's ruins brav'd:
Two worlds aboard, an old and new,

He safe o’er foaming billows flew :
The Gods made Human race, a Pilot, fav'd.

XXX.

How facred too the Merchant's name !

When Britain blaz'd meridian Fame * Bright fhone the word, but brighter trade gave law; Merchants in diftant courts rever'd,

Where prouder Statesmen ne'er appear'd, Merchants Embaffadors! and Thrones in awe!

*In Queen Elizabeth's reign.

XXXI. 'Tis

XXVI.

'Tis theirs to know the tides, the times;
The march of stars; the births of climes;
Summer and Winter theirs; theirs land and fea
Theirs are the feafons, months, and years;
And each a different garland wears :—
O that my fong could add Eternity !

XXXII.

Praife is the facred oil that feeds The burning lamp of god-like deeds Immortal glory pays illustrious cares : Whither, ye Britons are ye bound? O noble voyage! glorious round! Launch from the Thames, and end among the stars. XXXIII.

If to my fubject rofe my foul,

Your fame fhould laft while oceans roll:
When other worlds in depths of time shall rise,
As we the Geeeks of mighty name,
May they Britannia's fleet proclaim,
Look up, and read her story in the skies.
XXXIV.

Ye Syrens, fing; ye Tritons, blow;
Ye Nereids, dance; ye Billows, flow;
Roll to my measures, O ye Starry Throng!
Ye Winds! in concert breathe around;
Ye Navies! to the concert bound

From Pole to Pole! To Britain all belong.

THE

The most happy fhould be the most virtuous. Of Eternity. What Britain's arts should be. Whence flavery.

I,

BRITAIN! thus bleft, thy bleffing know
Or blifs, in vain! the Gods bestow;
Its end fulfil, means cherish, fource adore:
Vain fwellings of thy foul reprefs;

They moft may lofe, who moft poffefs;
Then let bliss awe, and tremble at thy store.

II.

Nor be too fond of life at beft,

Her chearful, not enamour'd guest:

Let thought fly forward; 'twill gay profpects give; Profpects immortal! that deride

A Tyrian wealth, a Persian pride, And make it perfect fortitude to live.

IM.

O for Eternity! a scene

To fair adventurers ferene !

O on that fea to deal in pure renown!

Traffick with Gods! What transports roll!

What boundless import to the foul!

The poor man's empire! and the subjects crown!

IV. Adore

· IV.

Adore the Gods, and plough the seas :
Thefe be thy arts, O Britain! these.
Let others pant for an immerse command;
Let others breathe war's fiery God;
The proudest victor fears thy nod,
Long as the trident fills thy glorious hand.

V.

Glorious, while Heaven-born Freedom lafts;
Which Trade's foft fpurious daughter blasts;
For what is Tyranny? A monftrous birth
From Luxury, by bribes carefs'd,

By glowing Power in fhades compress'd; Which talks around, and chains the groaning earth.

THE CLOSE.

This fubject now firft fung. How fung. Preferable to Pindar's fubjects. How Britain fhould be fung by All.

I.

THEE, Trade! I firft, who boast no store,

Who owe thee nought, thus fnatch from shore, The shore of Profe, where thou haft flumber'd long; And fend thy flag triumphant down

The tide of Time, to fure renown;

Oblefs my country! and thou pay'ft my fong.

II. Thou