POETRY,
if the Horm of words muj} rife. Let it blalt our enemies. Sure and nervous be it hurl'd On the Philips of the world. Learn not vainly to defpife (Proud of Edwa«d's vidories !) Warriors wedg'd in firm array. And. navies powerf il to difplay Their woven wings to every wind,- And leave the panting foe behind. Give to France the honour- due, France has chiefs and llatei.r.en coo; Breaits which patriot- paflions feel. Lovers of the common-weal. And tvhen fuch the foes we brave. Whether on the land or w^ye, .Greater is the pride of war. And the conquell nobler far.
Agincourt and Cre£y long Have flourifh'd in immortal fong ; And lifping babes afpire to praife The wonders of Eliza's days. And what eHe oi lace renown Has added wreaths to Britain'i crown; Whether on th' impetuous Rhine She bade her harnefs'd warriors fhine. Or fnatch'd the dangerous palm of praife Where the Sambre meets the Maefe ', Or Danube .••oils his wat'ry train ; Or the yellow- treHed Mayne
Thro' Detiingen's immortal vale.
Even Fontenoy could tell a tale. Might niodeil Worch ingenuous fpeak. To raife a blufh on Vidory's cheek; And bid the vanquifh'd wreachs difplay .Great as on CuUoden's, day.
But glory, which afpires to lall. Leans not meanly on the palt. 'Tis the prefenc Now demands Britifa hearts, and Britijh hands. Curlt be he, the willing Have, Who doubts, who lingers ro be brave. Curll be the coward tongue that dare Breathe one accent of delpair. Cold as Winter's icy hand. To chill the Genius of the lanti.
Chiefly
