  Old ocean's praise Demands my lays; A truly British theme I sing; A theme so great, I dare complete, And join with ocean, ocean's king. The Roman ode Majestic flow'd: Its stream divinely clear, and strong; In sense, and sound, Thebes roll'd profound; The torrent roar'd and foam'd along. Let Thebes, nor Rome, So fam'd, presume To triumph o'er a northern isle; Late time shall know The north can glow, If dread Augustus deign to smile. The naval crown Is all his own! Our fleet, if war, or commerce, call, His will performs Through waves and storms, And rides in triumph round the ball. No former race, With strong embrace, This theme to ravish durst aspire; With virgin charms My soul it warms, And melts melodious on my lyre. My lays I file With cautious toil; Ye graces! turn the glowing lines; [pg 154]On anvils neat Your strokes repeat; At every stroke the work refines! How music 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 scorns 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 lasts, 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. 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 sincere, 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; |
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