Thy monarchs arbitrary, fierce, unjust,
Themselves the flaves of bigotry or luft,
Difdain'd thy counfels, only in distress
Found thee a goodly fpunge for pow'r to prefs.
Thy chiefs, the lords of many a petty fee,
Provok'd and harrafs'd, in return plagu'd thee,
Call'd thee away from peaceable employ,
Domestic happiness and rural joy,

To waste thy life in arms, or lay it down-
In causeless feuds and bick'rings of their own:
Thy parliaments ador'd on bended knees

The fov'reignty they were conven'd to please;
Whate'er was afk'd, too timid to refift,
Comply'd with, and were graciously dismiss'd:
And if fome Spartan foul a doubt exprefs'd
And blushing at the tameness of the reft,
Dar'd to fuppofe the fubject had a choice,
He was a traitor by the gen'ral voice.

Oh flave! with pow'rs thou didst not dare exert,
Verfe cannot stoop fo low as thy defert,

It

It fhakes the fides of fplenetic difdain,

Thou felf-entitled ruler of the main,

To trace thee to the date when yon fair fea
That clips thy fhores, had no fuch charms for thee,
When other nations flew from coast to coast,
And thou hadst neither fleet nor flag to boast.

Kneel now, and lay thy forehead in the dust,
Blush if thou canft, not petrified, thou must:
Act but an honeft and a faithful part,

Compare what then thou waft, with what thou art, And God's difpofing providence confefs'd,

Obduracy itself muft yield the rest

Then thou art bound to serve him, and to prove Hour after hour thy gratitude and love.

Has he not hid thee and thy favour'd land For ages fafe beneath his fhelt'ring hand, Giv'n thee his bleffing on the clearest proof, Bid nations leagu'd against thee stand aloof, And charg'd hoftility and hate to roar

Where else they would, but not upon thy fhore?

His pow'r fecur'd thee when prefumptuous Spain
Baptiz'd her fleet invincible in vain;

Her gloomy monarch, doubtful, and refign'd
To ev'ry pang that racks an anxious mind,
Afk'd of the waves that broke upon his coast,
What tidings? and the furge replied-all loft-
And when the Stuart leaning on the Scot,

Then too much fear'd and now too much forgot,
Pierc'd to the very center of thy realm,

And hop'd to feize his abdicated helm,

'Twas but to prove how quickly with a frown, He that had rais'd thee could have pluck'd thee down, Peculiar is the grace by thee poffefs'd, Thy foes implacable, thy land at reft; Thy thunders travel over earth and feas, And all at home is pleasure, wealth and ease. 'Tis thus, extending his tempeftuous arm,

Thy Maker fills the nations with alarm,

While his own Heav'n furveys the troubled fcene,

And feels no change, unfhaken, and ferene.

Freedom,

Freedom, in other lands fcarce known to fhine,

Pours out a flood of splendour upon thine;
Thou haft as bright an int'rest in her rays,

As ever Roman had in Rome's best days.

True freedom is, where no restraint is known
That fcripture, juftice, and good fenfe difown,
Where only vice and injury are tied,
And all from fhore to fhore is free befide,
Such freedom is-and Windfor's hoary tow'rs
Stood trembling at the boldness of thy pow'rs,
That won a nymph on that immortal plain,
Like her the fabled Phoebus woo'd in vain;
He found the laurel only-happier you,

Th' unfading laurel and the virgin too.

Now think, if pleasure have a thought to spare,

If God himself be not beneath her care;

If bus'nefs, conftant as the wheels of time,

Can paufe one hour to read a ferious rhime;

Alluding to the grant of Magna Charta, which was extorted from king John by the Barons at Runnymede near Windfor.

If the new mail thy merchants now receive,
Or expectation of the next give leave,

Oh think, if chargeable with deep arrears
For fuch indulgence gilding all thy years,

How much though long neglected, shining yet,
The beams of heav'nly truth have swell'd the debt.
When perfecuting zeal made royal sport
With tortur'd innocence in Mary's court,

And Bonner, blithe as fhepherd at a wake,
Enjoy'd the fhow, and danc'd about the ftake;
The facred book, its value understood,

Receiv'd the feal of martyrdom in blood.
Those holy men, fo full of truth and grace,
Seem to reflection of a diff'rent race,

Meek, modeft, venerable, wife, fincere,

In fuch a cause they could not dare to fear,

They could not purchase earth with fuch a prize, Nor fpare a life too fhort to reach the skies.

From them to thee convey'd along the tide,

Their ftreaming hearts pour'd freely when they died,

- Thofe