88 Miscellaneous Poems.

Whom Winter’s Seasons, nor contending Jove,’

Nor watchful Fleets could from his gloriousPurpofe move,Intrepid in the Storms of war, and in the Midst of sty-ling Deaths sedate,

Now trembles, now he sinks beneath the mighty Weight,The Hero to the Man gives Way,

Unhappy Isle, for half an Age a PreyTo fierce Distension, or despotic!: Sway ;

Redeem’d from Anarchy, to be undoneBy the mistaken Measures of the Throne,

Thy Monarch’s meditating dark Designs,

Or boldly throwing off the Mask,

Fond of the Power, unequal to the Ta/k;

Thy self without remaining Signs, •

Of antient Virtue so deprav’d,

As ev’n to wish to be enslav’d (so low,

What more than human Aid could raiseThee from a StateProtect Thee from thyself, thy greatest Foe ?

Something Celestial sure, a HeroineOf matchless Form, and a majestic Mien ;

Awful, respected, fear’d, but more belov’d ;

More than her Laws her great Example mov’d.

The Bounds that in her godlike MindWe to her to Passions set, severely ssiin’d,

But that of doing Good was unconfin’d :

So just, that absolute Command,

Destructive in another Hand,

In hers had chang’d its Nature, had been useful made;

Oh had she longer staid,

Less swiftly to her Native Heav’n retir'd 1For her the Harps of Albion had been strung,

The tuneful Nine could never have afpir’dTo a more lofty and immortal Song.

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