Shall his good age, so near its journey's end,
Through cruel torment to the grave descend?
His shallow blood all issue at a wound,
Wash a slave's feet, and smoke upon the ground?
But he to you has ever been severe;

Then take your vengeance'-Suffolk now drew

near,

Bending beneath the burden of his care,

His robes neglected and his head was bare:
Decrepit Winter, in the yearly ring,

Thus slowly creeps to meet the blooming Spring:
Downward he cast a melancholy look,

Thrice turn'd to hide his grief, then faintly spoke:'Now deep in years, and forward in decay, That axe can only rob me of a day:

For thee, my soul's desire! I can't refrain ;

you

know?

And shall my tears, my last tears, flow in vain?
When shall know a mother's tender name,
My heart's distress no longer will you blame.'
At this, afar his bursting groans were heard;
The tears ran trickling down his silver beard:
He snatch'd her hand, which to his lips he press'd,
And bid her plant a dagger in his breast;'
Then, sinking, call'd' her piety unjust,'
And soil'd his hoary temples in the dust.
Hardhearted men! will you no mercy
Has the queen bribed you to distress her foe?
O weak deserters to Misfortune's part,
By false affection thus to pierce her heart!
When she had soar'd, to let your arrows fly,
And fetch her bleeding from the middle sky.
And can her virtue, springing from the ground,
Her flight recover, and disdain the wound,
When cleaving love and human interest bind
The broken force of her aspiring mind?

As round the generous eagle, which in vain
Exerts her strength, the serpent wreaths his train,
Her struggling wings entangles, curling plies
His poisonous tail, and stings her as she flies.
While yet the blow's first dreadful weight she
feels,

And with its force her resolution reels,

Large doors, unfolding with a mournful sound
To view discover, weltering on the ground,
Three headless trunks of those whose arms main-
tain'd,

And in her wars immortal glory gain'd:
The lifted axe assured her ready doom,
And silent mourners sadden'd all the room;
Shall I proceed, or here break off my tale,
Nor truths to stagger human faith reveal?
She met this utmost malice of her fate
With Christian dignity and pious state;
The beating storm's propitious rage she bless'd,
And all the martyr triumph'd in her breast.
Her lord and father, for a moment's space,
She strictly folded in her soft embrace!
Then thus she spoke, while angels heard on high,
And sudden gladness smiled along the sky:

Your over-fondness has not moved my hate;
I am well pleased you make my death so great:
I joy I cannot save you; and have given
Two lives, much dearer than my own, to Heaven,
If SO the queen decrees'.-But I have cause
To hope my blood will satisfy the laws;
And there is mercy still, for you, in store:
With me the bitterness of death is o'er;
He shot his sting in that farewell embrace,
And all, that is to come, is joy and peace.
1 Here she embraces them.

Then let mistaken sorrow be suppress'd,
Nor seem to envy my approaching rest.'
Then, turning to the ministers of Fate,
She, smiling, says, ' My victory's complete;
And tell your queen I thank her for the blow,
And grieve my gratitude I cannot show.

A

poor return I leave in England's crown, For everlasting pleasure and renown: Her guilt alone allays this happy hour; Her guilt, the only vengeance in her power.' Not Rome, untouch'd with sorrow, heard her fate,

And fierce Maria pitied her too late.

ODES.

OCEAN.

OCCASIONED BY

His Majesty's Royal Encouragement of the Sea Service.

TO WHICH IS PREFIXED

AN ODE TO THE KING,

AND

A DISCOURSE ON ODE.

I think myself obliged to recommend to you a consideration of the greatest importance; and I should look upon it as a great happiness, if, at the beginning of my reign, I could see the foundation laid of so great and necessary a work, as the increase and encouragement of our seamen in general; that they may be invited, rather than compelled by force and violence, to enter into the service of their country, as oft as occasion shall require it: a consideration worthy the representatives of a people great and flourishing in trade and navigation. This leads me to mention to you the case of Greenwich Hospital, that care may be taken, by some addition to that fund, to render comfortable and effectual that charitable provision for the support and maintenance of our seamen, worn out, and become decrepit by age and infirmities, in the service of their country.-Speech, Jan. 27, 1727-8.

To the King.

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.

To gods and kings
The poet sings;

To kings and gods the Muse is dear; The Muse inspires

With all her fires;

Begin, my soul! thy bold career.

From awful state,

From high debate,

From morning splendours of a crown, From homage paid,

From empires weigh'd,

From plans of blessings and renown;

Great monarch! bow
Thy beaming brow;

To thee I strike the sounding lyre,
With proud design

In verse to shine;

To rival Greek and Roman fire.

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 famed, presume

To triumph o'er a northern isle ;

Late time shall know

The North can glow,

If dread Augustus deign to smile.