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? 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! With which the Patriarch Nature's ruins brav'd: He safe o’er foaming billows flew : 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; 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: Ye Syrens, fing; ye Tritons, blow; 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 They moft may lofe, who moft poffefs; 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 : V. Glorious, while Heaven-born Freedom lafts; 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 |