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How mufic charms !

How metre warms !
Parent of actions, good and brave!

How vice it tames !

And worth inflames !
And holds proud empire o'er the grave!

Jove mark'd for man

A scanty span,
But lent him wings' to fly his doom;

Wit fcorns the grave ;

To Wit he gave
The life of gods ! immortal bloom !


Since years will fly,

And pleasures die,
Day after day, as years advance ;

Since, while life lafts,

Joy suffers blasts
From frowning Fate, and fickle Chance;

Nor life is long;

But soon we throng,
Like autumn leaves, death's pallid shore ;

We make, at least,

Of bad the best,
If in life's phantom, Fame, we soar..

XI. Our

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Our strains divide

The laurel's pride;
With those we lift to life, to live;

By fame enroll'd

With heroes bold,
And share the blessings which we give.


What hero's praise

Can fire my lays,
Like His, with whom my lay begun?

« Justice fincere,

“ And courage clear, « Rise the two columns of his throne,

“ How form'd for sway !

« Who look, obey;
They read the monarch in his port:

• Their love and awe

« Supply the law; " And his own lustre makes the court :"


On yonder height,

What golden light Triumphant shines ? And shines alone ?

Unrivall'd blaze !

The nations gaze! 'Tis not the Sun; 'tis Britain's throne.

XV. Our

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Our Monarch, there,

Rear'd high in air,
Should tempefts rise, disdains to bend;

Like British oak,

Derides the stroke;
His blooming honours far extend !


Beneath them lies,

With lifted eyes,
Fair Albion, like an amorous maid;

While intereft wings

Bold foreign kings
To fly, like eagles, to his shade.


At his proud foot

The fea, pour'd out, Immortal nourishment supplies ;

Thence wealth and state,

And power and fate,
Which Europe reads in GEORGE's eyes.


From what we view,

We take the clue,
Which leads from great to greater things:

Men doubt no more,

But gods adore,
When such resemblance shines in kings.

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