XXIX. Sacred are ships, of birth divine! An angel drew the first design; 170 With which the Patriarch* Nature's ruin bray'd: Two worlds abroad, an old and new, He safe o'er foaming billows flew, The gods made human race, a pilot sav'd. XXX. How sacred, too, the Merchant's name! --- When Britain blaz'd meridian fame, t Bright shone the sword, but brighter trade gave law: Merchants in distant courts rever'd, Where prouder statesmen ne'er appear'd Merchants ambassadors! and thrones in awe! 'Tis theirs to know the tides, the times, The march of stars, the births of climes: XXXII. Praise is the sacred oil that feeds: The burning lamp of godlike deeds: 180 190 Launch from the Thames, and end among the stars. *Noah. + In Queen Elizabeth's reign. XXXIII. If to my subject rose my soul, Your fame should last while oceans roll: When other worlds in depths of time shall rise, XXXIV. * Ye Syrens! sing; ye Tritons! blow; 200 MORAL. 1. BRITAIN! thus bless'd, thy blessing know, Its end fulfil, means cherish, source adore; They most may lose who most possess; Then let us bless with awe, and tremble at thy store. *It is Sir Isaac Newton's opinion, that the principal constellations took their names from the Argonauts, to perpetuate that great action. Nor be too fond of life at best; Her cheerful, not enamour'd, guest: Let thought fly forward 'twill gay prospects give, A Tyrian wealth, a Persian pride, To fair adventurers serene! O, on that sea to deal in pure renown! The poor man's empire! and the subject's crown! IV. Adore the gods, and plough the seas: v. Glorious while heav'n-born freedom lasts, Which Trade's soft spurious daughter blasts: By glowing pow'r in shades compress'd, 10 20 Which stalks around, and chains the groaning earth. 30 CLOSE. I. THEE, Trade! I first, who boast no store, Who owe thee nought, thus snatch from shore, The shore of prose, where thou hast slumber'd long, And send thy flag triumphant down The tide of time to sure renown: O bless my country! and thou pay'st my song. II. Thou art the Briton's noblest theme; Why then unsung! my simple aim To dress plain sense, and fire the gen'rous blood, But list with yon' ethereal train * The shining Muse, to serve the public good. Of ancient art, and ancient praise, The springs are open'd in my lays:† Till chiefs of equal fame they view, Nor grudge to Britons bold their Theban song. 10 Ingeredior, sanctos ausus recludere fontes ; Ascræumquecano Romana per oppida carmen. VIRG. IV. Not Pindar's theme with mine compares; Transcend diversion light, and glory vain: The charioteer's, not empire's golden rein. V. Nor, Chandos! thou the Muse despise (Such Pindar's breast) thou Theron of our time! A Pindar's head or Theron's heart. In life or song how rare the true sublime! VI. None British born will sure disdain This new, bold, moral, patriot strain, Tho' not with genius, with some virtue crown'd; (How vain the Muse!) the lay may last, Thus twin'd around the British mast, The British mast with nobler laurels bound! VII. Weak ivy curls round naval oak, And smiles at wind and storms unbroke; By strength not her's sublime: thus proud to soar, And lives and echoes thro' the plain, While o'er the billows Britain's thunders roar. 20 30 40 |