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Your country's good,

Your country's' full-blown glory greet.

What pow'rful charm

Can death disarm?

Your long, your iron slumbers break?
By Jove, by Fame,

By George's name,

Awake! awake! awake! awake!

With spiral shell,

Full blasted, tell,

That all your wat'ry realms should ring;
Your pearl alcoves,

Your coral groves,

Should echo theirs, and Britain's king.

As long as stars

Guide mariners,

As Carolina's virtues please,

Or suns invite

The ravish'd sight,

The British flag shall sweep the seas.

Peculiar both!

Our soil's strong growth,

And our bold natives' hardy mind;
Sure heaven bespoke

Our hearts and oak,

To give a master to mankind.

That noblest birth

Of teeming earth,

1 Written soon after King George the First's accession.

Of forests fair, that daughter proud,
To foreign coasts

Our grandeur boasts,

And Britain's pleasure speaks aloud:
Now big with war,

Sends fate from far,

If rebel realms their fate demand;
Now, sumptuous spoils

Of foreign soils

Pours in the bosom of our land.

Hence Britain lays

In scales, and weighs

The fate of kingdoms, and of kings;
And as she frowns,

Or smiles, on crowns

A night, or day of glory, springs.

Thus ocean swells

The streams and rills,

And to their borders lifts them high;
Or else withdraws

The mighty cause,

And leaves their famish'd channels dry.

How mixt, how frail,

How sure to fail,

Is every pleasure of mankind!

A damp destroys

My blooming joys,

While Britain's glory fires

my

mind.

For who can gaze

On restless seas,

Unstruck with life's more restless state?

Where all are tost,

And most are lost,

By tides of passion, blasts of fate?

The world's the main,

How vext! how vain! Ambition swells, and anger foams; May good men find,

Beneath the wind,

A noiseless shore, unruffled homes!

The public scene

Of harden'd men

Teach me, O teach me to despise !
The world few know

But to their woe,

Our crimes with our experience rise;

All tender sense

Is banish'd thence,

All maiden nature's first alarms
What shock'd before

Disgust no more,

And what disgusted has its charms.

In landscapes green

True bliss is seen,

With innocence, in shades, she sports; In wealthy towns

Proud labour frowns,

And painted sorrow smiles in courts.

These scenes untried

Seduc'd my pride,

To fortune's arrows bar'd my breast;
Till wisdom came,

A hoary dame!

And told me pleasure was in rest.

"O may I steal

Along the vale

Of humble life, secure from foes!
My friend sincere !

My judgment clear!

And gentle business my repose!

"My mind be strong

To combat wrong!

Grateful, O king! for favours shown! Soft to complain

For others' pain!

And bold to triumph o'er my own!

"(When fortune's kind)

Acute to find,

And warm to relish every boon!
And wise to still

Fantastic ill,

Whose frightful spectres stalk at noon!

"No fruitless toils!

No brainless broils!

Each moment levell'd at the mark!

Our day so short

Invites to sport;

Be sad and solemn when 'tis dark.

"Yet, prudence, still

Rein thou my will!

What's most important, make most dear!

For 'tis in this

Resides true bliss ;

True bliss, a deity severe !

"When temper leans

To gayer scenes,

And serious life void moments spares,

Or

The sylvan chase

My sinews brace !

song unbend my mind from cares!

"Nor shun, my soul!

The genial bowl,

Where mirth, good nature, spirit, flow! Ingredients these,

Above, to please

The laughing gods, the wise, below.

"Though rich the vine,

More wit, than wine,

More sense, than wit, good-will than art, May I provide !

Fair truth, my pride!

My joy, the converse of the heart!

"The gloomy brow,

The broken vow,

To distant climes, ye gods! remove!
The nobly soul'd

Their commerce hold

With words of truth and looks of love!

"O glorious aim !
O wealth supreme!

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