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When Nature's hand this ground did thus advance,
'Twas guided by a wiser power than Chance;
Mark’d out for such an use, as if 'twere meant
T' invite the Builder, and his choice prevent.
Nor can we call it choice, when what we chuse,
Folly, or Blindness only could refuse.
A Crown of such Majestick Tow'rs doth grace
The God's great Mother, when her heavenly race
Do homage to her; yet she cannot boast
Among that numerous and Celestial Host,
More heroes than can Windsor, nor doth Fame's
Immortal Book record more noble Names.
Not to look back so far, to whom this Isle
Owes the first Glory of so brave a Pile,
Whether to Cæsar, Albanact, or Brute,
The British Arthur, or the Danish Knute,
(Though this of old no less contest did move,
Than when for Homer's Birth seven Cities strove)
Like him in Birth, thou shoul'dst be like in Fame,
(As thine his Fate, if mine had been his Flame)
But whosoe'er it was, Nature design'd
First a brave place, and then as brave a mind.
Not to recount those several kings, to whom
It gave a Cradle, or to whom a Tomb,
But the (great[1] Edward) and thy greater Son,
(The Lilies which his Father wore, be won)
Any thy[2] Bellona, who the Consert came
Not only to thy Bed, but to thy Fame,
'Twas guided by a wiser power than Chance;
Mark’d out for such an use, as if 'twere meant
T' invite the Builder, and his choice prevent.
Nor can we call it choice, when what we chuse,
Folly, or Blindness only could refuse.
A Crown of such Majestick Tow'rs doth grace
The God's great Mother, when her heavenly race
Do homage to her; yet she cannot boast
Among that numerous and Celestial Host,
More heroes than can Windsor, nor doth Fame's
Immortal Book record more noble Names.
Not to look back so far, to whom this Isle
Owes the first Glory of so brave a Pile,
Whether to Cæsar, Albanact, or Brute,
The British Arthur, or the Danish Knute,
(Though this of old no less contest did move,
Than when for Homer's Birth seven Cities strove)
Like him in Birth, thou shoul'dst be like in Fame,
(As thine his Fate, if mine had been his Flame)
But whosoe'er it was, Nature design'd
First a brave place, and then as brave a mind.
Not to recount those several kings, to whom
It gave a Cradle, or to whom a Tomb,
But the (great[1] Edward) and thy greater Son,
(The Lilies which his Father wore, be won)
Any thy[2] Bellona, who the Consert came
Not only to thy Bed, but to thy Fame,
A 4
*She
