STRAIN THE FOURTH. THE ARGUMENT. Pindar invoked. His praife. Britain should decline var; but boldly affert her trade. Encouraged from the throne: Britain's condition without trade. Trade's character, and surprizing deeds. Carthage. Solomon's temple. St. Paul's church. The mifer's character. The wonderful effects of trade. Why religion recommended to the merchant. What, falfe joy. What, true. What religion is to the merchant. Why trade more glorious in Britons than others. How warmly, and how long, to be pursued by us. The Briton's legacy. Columbus. His praife. America defcribed. Worlds ftill unknown. Queen Elizabeth. King George the Second. His glory navally reprefented. . What is the bound of Britain's power. Beyond that of the most famed in hiftory. The fign Lyra. What the constellations are. Argo. The whale. The Dolphin. Eridanus. The lion. Libra. Virgo. Berenice. Te British ladies cenfured. The Moon. What the fea is. Apoftrophe to the Emperor. The Spanish armada. How Britain fhould fpeak her refentment. What gives power. What navies de in war. The Tartar. Mogul Africa, China. Who master of the world. What the history of the world is. The genealogy of glory. Miftakes about it. the merchant't har vet. Ships of divine origin. Merchants ambassadors. The Briton's voyage. Praife the food of glory. Britain's record. I. Peace BRITANNIA'S ftate what bounds confine! (Of rifing thought O golden mine! Mountains, Alps, freams, gulphs, oceans, fet no bourd; She fallies till the ftrikes the star; Small ille! For Cæfars, for the fon Then, when they call'd the world their own, III. This truth I swear by Cynthia's beam. Pale Queen! be flush'd at Britain's fame; And, rolling, tell the nations" o'er the main "To share her empire is thy pride." HE, mighty power! who curbs the tide, Uncurbs, extends, throws wide Britannia's reign. X. What is the main! Ye kings renown'd! Britannia's centre, and your bound: Auftrian! where-e'er Leviathan can roll, Is Britain's home! And Britain's mine, Where-e'er the ripening fun can fhine, Parts are for emperors; for her the whole. ΧΙ. Why, Auftrian! wilt thou hover ftill On doubtful wing, and want the skill To fee thy welfare in the world's? Too late Another Churchill thou may'ft find, Another Churchill, not fo kind," And other Blenheims, big with other fute. XII. Ill thou remember'ft, ill doft own, Who refcued an ungrateful throne; Ill thou confider'ft, that the kind are brave; Ill doft thou weigh, that in Time's womb A day may fleep, a day of doom, As great to ruin, as was that to fare. XIII. How would't thou fmile to hear my strain, Yet what if my prediction fhould prove true? What naval fcene adorns the feat O language ft for thoughts so bold! Ah! never let a meaner language found, Than that which proftrates human fouls, Through Heaven's dark vault impetuous rolls, And nature rocks, when angry Jove has frown'd. * The Spam armada in the House of Lords. 3 H XVI. Not realms unbounded, not a feed Of natives, not expence of blood, Or reach of counfel gives the world a lerd: Trade calls him forth, and fets him high, As mortal man, o'er men can fly : Trade leaves poor gleanings to the keeneft fword. XVII. Nay, her's the fword! For Fleets have wings; Like lightning fly to difiant kings; Like Gods defcend at once on trembling states: Is war proclaim'd? Our wars are hurl'd To fartheft confines of the world, Surprize your ports, and thunder at your gates. XVIII. The king of tempetts, Æolus, Sends forth his pin on'd people, thus, On rapid errands: as they fly, they roar, And carry fable clouds, and freep The land, the defert, and the deep! Earth fakes! proud cities fall! and thrones adore! The Fools of Nature ever ftrike Trade's the big heart; bright empire, but their eye. Whence Tartar GRAND? or Mogul GREAT?-Trade gilt their titles, pour'd their ftate; While Afric's black, lafcivious, flothful breed, To clafp their ruin, Hy from teil; That meanest product on their foil, Their people fell one half on t' other feed. XXI. Britain! To thefe, and fuch as thefe, Which fever lands to mortals les renown'd, XXV. Haft thou look'd round the fpacious 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 Trade fprings from Peace, and Wealth from And Power from Wealth! of Power is made The God on Earth: hail, then, the dove of Peace! Whofe olive fpeaks the raging flood Of war reprefs'd: what's lofs of blood? War is the death of Commerce and Increase. XXVII. Then perish War!-Detefted War! Shalt thou make Gods? light far'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-walling ftorms, before the genial fun? XXVIII. Peace is the Merchant's fummer clear! Sacred are Ships, of birth divine! With which the Patriarch Nature's ruins brav'd: He fafe o'er foaming billows flew : The Gods made Human race, a Pilot, fav'd. XXX. Merchants in diftant courts revcr'd, Where prouder ftatefmen ne'er appear'd, Merchants Embaffadors! and Thrones in awe. XXXI. 'Tis theirs to know the tides, the times; Praife is the facred oil that feeds Trade's the full fulfe, that fends their vigour Immortal glory pays illufirious cares : round. Whither, ye Britons! are ye bound? O noble voyage! glorious round! Launch from the Thames, and end among the ftars: XXXIII. If to my fubject rofe my foul, Your fame should laft while oceans roll: In Queen Elizabeth's Reign. The shore of Profe, where thou haft flumber'd long; And fend thy flag triumphant down O blefs my country! and thou pay't my fong. Thou art the Briton's nobleft theme, But lift, with yon ethereal train, Of ancient art, and ancient praise, Not Pindar's theme with nine compares, Nor, Chandos! thou the Mufe defpife (Such Pindar's breaft) thou Theron of our time! Seldom to man the Gods impart A Pindar's head, or Theron's heart; None, British-born, will fure difdain This new, bold, moral, patriot ftrain, Though not with genius with fome virtue crown'd; (How vain the Mufe!) the lay may last, Thus twin'd around the British Maft, The British Maft, with nobler laurels bound! VII. Weak ivy curls round naval oak, And fimiles at wind and ftorm unbroke;` By ftrength not hers fublime; thus, proud to foar, To Britain's grandeur cleaves my firain; Be dumb, ye groveling Sons of Verfe Sing Britain's fame, with all her Hero's fire. THE CHORUS. "Ye Sirens, 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 N vies! to the concert bound "From Pole to Pole; to Britain all belong; "Britain to Heaven; from Heaven defcends my fong, 3 H 2 |