THE DEDICATION. TO M R. MY VOLTAIRE. I. Y Mufe, a bird of paffage, flies II. * To dive full deep in antient days, III. But where 's his dolphin? Know'ft thou, where? May that be found in Thee, Voltaire! Save thou from harm my plunge into the wave: How will thy name illustrious raise My finking fong Mere mortal lays, So patroniz'd, are rescued from the grave. IV. "Tell * Annals of the Emperor Charles XII. Lewis XIV. IV. Tell me, fay'ft thou, who courts my fmile? "What stranger stray'd from yonder ifle !”— No stranger, Sir! though born in foreign climes ; On Dorfet downs, when Milton's page, With Sin and Death, provok'd thy rage, Thy rage provok'd, who footh'd with gentle rhymes ? y. Who kindly couch'd thy cenfure's eye, Sound judgment giving law to fancy strong? Nor could thy modesty do lefs, That Milton's blindness lay not in his fong? VI. But fuch debates long fince are flown; "On airy paftimes, ere our brows were grey : To thee my patron I my debt, And thou to thine for Pruffia's golden key. VII. The prefent, in oblivion cast, VIII. Ye VIII. Ye wing'd, ye rapid moments! stay: Oh friend! as deaf as rapid, they; Life's little drama done, the curtain falls! Doft thou not hear it? I can hear, Though nothing ftrikes the liftening ear Time groans his laft! Eternal loudly calls! IX. Nor calls in vain; the call inspires Than once prevail'd; we stand on higher ground; With ardours new, our fpirits flame; VOL. III. A SEA 'N lofty founds let thofe delight I who brave the foe, but fear the fight; And, bold in word, of arms decline the ftroke: And warn them of the vengeance they provoke. II. From whence arife these loud alarms? Why gleams the south with brandish'd arms? War, bath'd in blood, from curft ambition fprings : Ambition mean, ignoble pride! Perhaps their ardours may fubfide, III. Hear, and revere.- -At Britain's nod, From each enchanted grove and wood Haftes the huge oak, or fhadeless forest leaves; The mountain pines affume new forms, Spread canvas-wings, and fly through storms, And ride o'er rocks, and dance on foaming waves. IV. She IV. She nods again: the labouring earth In fmoaking rivers runs her molten ore; These minifters of fate fulfil, On empires wide, an island's will, When thrones unjuft wake vengeance: know, ye powers! VI. In her grand council fhe furveys, Britannia fheaths her courage keen, And leave all law below them; then they blaze! They thunder from refounding feas, Touch'd by their injur'd master's foul of fire. Q2 *Houfe of Lords. VIII. Then |