<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=457116" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Carmen Seculare. For the Year 1700. To The King</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">Thy elder Look, Great Janus, cast<br>Into the long Records of Ages past:<br>Review the Years in fairest Action drest<br>With noted White, Superior to the rest;<br>Aera's deriv'd, and Chronicles begun<br>From Empires founded, and from Battels won:<br>Show all the Spoils by valiant Kings achiev'd,<br>And groaning Nations by Their Arms reliev'd;<br>The Wounds of Patriots in their Country's Cause,<br>And happy Pow'r sustain'd by wholesom Laws:<br>In comely Rank call ev'ry Merit forth:<br>Imprint on ev'ry Act it's Standard Worth:<br>The glorious Parallels then downward bring<br>To Modern Wonders, and to Britain's King:<br>With equal Justice and Historic Care<br>Their Laws, Their Toils, Their Arms with His compare:<br>Confess the various Attributes of Fame<br>Collected and compleat in William's Name:<br>To all the list'ning World relate<br>(As Thou dost His Story read)<br>That nothing went before so Great,<br>And nothing Greater can succeed.<br>Thy Native Latium was Thy darling Care,<br>Prudent in Peace, and terrible in War:<br>The boldest Virtues that have govern'd Earth<br>From Latium's fruitful Womb derive their Birth.<br>Then turn to Her fair-written Page:<br>From dawning Childhood to establish'd Age,<br>The Glories of Her Empire trace:<br>Confront the Heroes of Thy Roman Race:<br>And let the justest Palm the Victor's Temples grace.<br>The Son of Mars reduc'd the trembling Swains,<br>And spread His Empire o'er the distant Plains:<br>But yet the Sabins violated Charms<br>Obscur'd the Glory of His rising Arms.<br>Numa the Rights of strict Religion knew;<br>On ev'ry Altar laid the Incense due;<br>Unskill'd to dart the pointed Spear,<br>Or lead the forward Youth to noble War.<br>Stern Brutus was with too much Horror good,<br>Holding his Fasces stain'd with Filial Blood.<br>Fabius was Wise, but with Excess of Care;<br>He sav'd his Country; but prolonged the War:<br>While Decius, Paulus, Curius greatly fought;<br>And by Their strict Examples taught,<br>How wild Desires should be controll'd;<br>And how much brighter Virtue was, than Gold;<br>They scarce Their swelling Thirst of Fame could hide;<br>And boasted Poverty with too much Pride.<br>Excess in Youth made Scipio less rever'd:<br>And Cato dying seem'd to own, He fear'd.<br>Julius with Honor tam'd Rome's foreign Foes:<br>But Patriots fell, e'er the Dictator rose.<br>And while with Clemency Augustus reign'd;<br>The Monarch was ador'd; the City chain'd.<br>With justest Honour be Their Merits drest:<br>But be Their Failings too confest:<br>Their Virtue, like their Tyber's Flood<br>Rolling, it's Course design'd the Country's Good:<br>But oft the Torrent's too impetuous Speed<br>From the low Earth tore some polluting Weed:<br>And with the Blood of Jove there always ran<br>Some viler Part, some Tincture of the Man.<br>Few Virtues after These so far prevail,<br>But that Their Vices more than turn the Scale:<br>Valour grown wild by Pride, and Pow'r by Rage,<br>Did the true Charms of Majesty impair:<br>Rome by Degrees advancing more in Age,<br>Show'd sad Remains of what had once been fair;<br>'Till Heav'n a better Race of Men supplies;<br>And Glory shoots new Beams from Western Skies.<br>Turn then to Pharamond, and Charlemain,<br>And the long Heroes of the Gallic Strain;<br>Experienc'd Chiefs, for hardy Prowess known,<br>And bloody Wreaths in vent'rous Battels won.<br>From the First William, our great Norman King,<br>The bold Plantagenets, and Tudors bring;<br>Illustrious Virtues, who by turns have rose,<br>In foreign Fields to check Britannia's Foes;<br>With happy Laws Her Empire to sustain,<br>And with full Pow'r assert Her ambient Main:<br>But sometimes too Industrious to be Great,<br>Nor Patient to expect the Turns of Fate,<br>They open'd Camps deform'd by Civil Fight,<br>And made proud Conquest trample over Right:<br>Disparted Britain mourn'd Their doubtful Sway,<br>And dreaded Both, when Neither would obey.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">From Didier, and Imperial Adolph trace<br>The Glorious Offspring of the Nassaw Race,<br>Devoted Lives to Publick Liberty;<br>The Chief still dying, or the Country free.<br>Then see the Kindred Blood of Orange flow,<br>From warlike Cornet, thro' the Loins of Beau;<br>Thro' Chalon next; and there with Nassaw join,<br>From Rhone's fair Banks transplanted to the Rhine.<br>Bring next the Royal List of Stuarts forth,<br>Undaunted Minds, that rul'd the rugged North;<br>'Till Heav'n's Decrees by rip'ning Times are shown;<br>'Till Scotland's Kings ascend the English Throne;<br>And the fair Rivals live for ever One.<br>Janus, mighty Deity,<br>Be kind; and as Thy searching Eye<br>Does our Modern Story trace,<br>Finding some of Stuart's Race<br>Unhappy, pass Their Annals by:<br>No harsh Reflection let Remembrance raise:<br>Forbear to mention, what Thou canst not praise:<br>But as Thou dwell'st upon that Heav'nly Name,<br>To Grief for ever Sacred as to Fame,<br>Oh! read it to Thy self; in Silence weep;<br>And Thy convulsive Sorrows inward keep;<br>Lest Britain's Grief should waken at the Sound;<br>And Blood gush fresh from Her eternal Wound.<br>Whither would'st Thou further look?<br>Read William's Acts, and close the ample Book:<br>Peruse the Wonders of His dawning Life;<br>How, like Alcides, He began;<br>With Infant Patience calm'd Seditious Strife,<br>And quell'd the Snakes which round his Cradle ran.<br>Describe His Youth, attentive to Alarms,<br>By Dangers form'd, and perfected in Arms:<br>When Conqu'ring, mild; when Conquer'd, not disgrac'd;<br>By Wrongs not lessen'd, nor by Triumphs rais'd:<br>Superior to the blind Events<br>Of little Human Accidents;<br>And constant to His first Decree,<br>To curb the Proud, to set the Injur'd free;<br>To bow the haughty Neck, and raise the suppliant Knee.<br>His opening Years to riper Manhood bring;<br>And see the Hero perfect in the King:<br>Imperious Arms by Manly Reason sway'd,<br>And Power Supreme by free Consent obey'd:<br>With how much Haste His Mercy meets his Foes:<br>And how unbounded His Forgiveness flows:<br>With what Desire He makes His Subjects bless'd,<br>His Favours granted ere His Throne address'd:<br>What Trophies o'er our captiv'd Hearts He rears,<br>By Arts of Peace more potent, than by Wars:<br>How o'er Himself, as o'er the World, He Reigns,<br>His Morals strength'ning, what His Law ordains.<br>Thro' all His Thread of Life already spun,<br>Becoming Grace and proper Action run:<br>The Piece by Virtue's equal Hand is wrought,<br>Mix'd with no Crime, and shaded with no Fault:<br>No Footsteps of the Victor's Rage<br>Left in the Camp, where William did engage:<br>No Tincture of the Monarch's Pride<br>Upon the Royal Purple spy'd:<br>His Fame, like Gold, the more 'tis try'd,<br>The more shall its intrinsic Worth proclaim;<br>Shall pass the Combat of the searching Flame,<br>And triumph o'er the vanquish'd Heat,<br>For ever coming out the same,<br>And losing nor it's Lustre, nor it's Weight.<br>Janus be to William just;<br>To faithful History His Actions trust:<br>Command Her, with peculiar Care<br>To trace each Toil, and comment ev'ry War:<br>His saving Wonders bid Her write<br>In Characters distinctly bright;<br>That each revolving Age may read<br>The Patriot's Piety, the Hero's Deed:<br>And still the Sire inculcate to his Son<br>Transmissive Lessons of the King's Renown:<br>That William's Glory still may live;<br>When all that present Art can give,<br>The Pillar'd Marble, and the Tablet Brass,<br>Mould'ring, drop the Victor's Praise:<br>When the great Monuments of His Pow'r<br>Shall now be visible no more:<br>When Sambre shall have chang'd her winding Flood;<br>And Children ask, where Namur stood.<br>Namur, proud City, how her Towr's were arm'd!<br>How She contemn'd th'approaching Foe!<br>'Till She by William's Trumpets was allarm'd,<br>And shook, and sunk, and fell beneath His Blow.<br>Jove and Pallas, mighty Pow'rs,<br>Guided the Hero to the hostile Tow'rs.<br>Perseus seem'd less swift in War,<br>When, wing'd with Speed, he flew thro' Air.<br>Embattl'd Nations strive in vain<br>The Hero's Glory to restrain:<br>Streams arm'd with Rocks, and Mountains red with Fire<br>In vain against His Force conspire.<br>Behold Him from the dreadful Height appear!<br>And lo! Britannia's Lions waving there.<br>Europe freed, and France repell'd<br>The Hero from the Height beheld:<br>He spake the Word, that War and Rage should cease:<br>He bid the Maese and Rhine in Safety flow;<br>And dictated a lasting Peace<br>To the rejoicing World below:<br>To rescu'd States, and vindicated Crowns<br>His Equal Hand prescrib'd their ancient Bounds;<br>Ordain'd whom ev'ry Province should obey;<br>How far each Monarch should extend His Sway:<br>Taught 'em how Clemency made Pow'r rever'd;<br>And that the Prince Belov'd was truly Fear'd.<br>Firm by His Side unspotted Honour stood,<br>Pleas'd to confess Him not so Great as Good:<br>His Head with brighter Beams fair Virtue deck't,<br>Than Those which all His num'rous Crowns reflect:<br>Establish'd Freedom clap'd her joyful Wings;<br>Proclaim'd the First of Men, and Best of Kings.<br>Whither would the Muse aspire<br>With Pindar's Rage without his Fire?<br>Pardon me, Janus, 'twas a Fault,<br>Created by too great a Thought:<br>Mindless of the God and Day,<br>I from thy Altars, Janus, stray,<br>From Thee, and from My self born far away.<br>The fiery Pegasus disdains<br>To mind the Rider's Voice, or hear the Reins:<br>When glorious Fields and opening Camps He views;<br>He runs with an unbounded Loose:<br>Hardly the Muse can sit the headstrong Horse:<br>Nor would She, if She could, check his impetuous Force:<br>With the glad Noise the Cliffs and Vallies ring;<br>While She thro' Earth and Air pursues the King.<br>She now beholds Him on the Belgic Shoar;<br>Whilst Britain's Tears His ready Help implore,<br>Dissembling for Her sake his rising Cares,<br>And with wise Silence pond'ring vengeful Wars.<br>She thro' the raging Ocean now<br>Views Him advancing his auspicious Prow;<br>Combating adverse Winds and Winter Seas,<br>Sighing the Moments that defer Our Ease;<br>Daring to wield the Scepter's dang'rous Weight,<br>And taking the Command, to save the State:<br>Tho' e'er the doubtful Gift can be secur'd,<br>New Wars must be sustain'd, new Wounds endur'd.<br>Thro' rough Ierne's Camp She sounds Alarms,<br>And Kingdoms yet to be redeem'd by Arms;<br>In the dank Marshes finds her glorious Theme;<br>And plunges after Him thro' Boyn's fierce Stream.<br>She bids the Nereids run with trembling Haste,<br>To tell old Ocean how the Hero past.<br>The God rebukes their Fear, and owns the Praise<br>Worthy that Arm, Whose Empire He obeys.<br>Back to His Albion She delights to bring<br>The humblest Victor, and the kindest King.<br>Albion, with open Triumph would receive<br>Her Hero, nor obtains His Leave:<br>Firm He rejects the Altars She would raise;<br>And thanks the Zeal, while He declines the Praise.<br>Again She follows Him thro' Belgia's Land,<br>And Countries often sav'd by William's Hand;<br>Hears joyful Nations bless those happy Toils,<br>Which freed the People, but return'd the Spoils.<br>In various Views She tries her constant Theme;<br>Finds Him in Councils, and in Arms the Same:<br>When certain to o'ercome, inclin'd to save,<br>Tardy to Vengeance, and with Mercy, Brave.<br>Sudden another Scene employs her Sight:<br>She sets her Hero in another Light:<br>Paints His great Mind Superior to Success,<br>Declining Conquest, to establish Peace:<br>She brings Astrea down to Earth again,<br>And Quiet, brooding o'er His future Reign.<br>Then with unweary'd Wing the Goddess soars<br>East, over Danube and Propontis Shoars;<br>Where jarring Empires ready to engage,<br>Retard their Armies, and suspend their Rage;<br>'Till William's Word, like That of Fate, declares,<br>If They shall study Peace, or lengthen Wars.<br>How sacred His Renown for equal Laws,<br>To whom the World defers it's Common Cause!<br>How fair His Friendships, and His Leagues how just,<br>Whom ev'ry Nation courts, Whom all Religions trust!<br>From the Maeotis to the Northern Sea,<br>The Goddess wings her desp'rate Way;<br>Sees the young Muscovite, the mighty Head,<br>Whose Sov'reign Terror forty Nations dread,<br>Inamour'd with a greater Monarch's Praise,<br>And passing half the Earth to His Embrace:<br>She in His Rule beholds His Volga's Force,<br>O'er Precipices, with impetuous Sway<br>Breaking, and as He rowls his rapid Course,<br>Drowning, or bearing down, whatever meets his Way.<br>But her own King She likens to His Thames,<br>With gentle Course devolving fruitful Streams:<br>Serene yet Strong, Majestic yet Sedate,<br>Swift without Violence, without Terror Great.<br>Each ardent Nymph the rising Current craves:<br>Each Shepherd's Pray'r retards the parting Waves:<br>The Vales along the Bank their Sweets disclose:<br>Fresh Flow'rs for ever rise: and fruitful Harvest grows.<br>Yet whither would th'advent'rous Goddess go?<br>Sees She not Clouds, and Earth, and Main below?<br>Minds She the Dangers of the Lycian Coast,<br>And Fields, where mad Belerophon was lost?<br>Or is Her tow'ring Flight reclaim'd<br>By Seas from Icarus's Downfall nam'd?<br>Vain is the Call, and useless the Advice:<br>To wise Perswasion Deaf, and human Cries,<br>Yet upward She incessant flies;<br>Resolv'd to reach the high Empyrean Sphere,<br>And tell Great Jove, She sings His Image here;<br>To ask for William an Olympic Crown,<br>To Chromius' Strength, and Theron's Speed unknown:<br>Till lost in trackless Fields of shining Day,<br>Unable to discern the Way<br>Which Nassaw's Virtue only could explore,<br>Untouch'd, unknown, to any Muse before,<br>She, from the noble Precipices thrown,<br>Comes rushing with uncommon Ruin down.<br>Glorious Attempt! Unhappy Fate!<br>The Song too daring, and the Theme too great!<br>Yet rather thus She wills to die,<br>Than in continu'd Annals live, to sing<br>A second Heroe, or a vulgar King;<br>And with ignoble Safety fly<br>In sight of Earth, along a middle Sky.<br>To Janus' Altars, and the numerous Throng,<br>That round his mystic Temple press,<br>For William's Life, and Albion's Peace,<br>Ambitious Muse reduce the roving Song.<br>Janus, cast Thy forward Eye<br>Future, into great Rhea's pregnant Womb;<br>Where young Ideas brooding lye,<br>And tender Images of Things to come:<br>'Till by Thy high Commands releas'd;<br>'Till by Thy Hand in proper Atoms dress'd,<br>In decent Order They advance to Light;<br>Yet then too swiftly fleet by human Sight;<br>And meditate too soon their everlasting Flight.<br>Nor Beaks of Ships in Naval Triumph born,<br>Nor Standards from the hostile Ramparts torn,<br>Nor Trophies brought from Battles won,<br>Nor Oaken Wreath, nor Mural Crown<br>Can any future Honours give<br>To the Victorious Monarch's Name:<br>The Plenitude of William's Fame<br>Can no accumulated Stores receive.<br>Shut then, auspicious God, Thy Sacred Gate,<br>And make Us Happy, as our King is Great.<br>Be kind, and with a milder Hand,<br>Closing the Volume of the finish'd Age,<br>(Tho' Noble, 'twas an Iron Page)<br>A more delightful Leaf expand,<br>Free from Alarms, and fierce Bellona's Rage:<br>Bid the great Months begin their joyful Round,<br>By Flora some, and some by Ceres Crown'd:<br>Teach the glad Hours to scatter, as they fly,<br>Soft Quiet, gentle Love, and endless Joy:<br>Lead forth the Years for Peace and Plenty fam'd,<br>From Saturn's Rule, and better Metal nam'd.<br>Secure by William's Care let Britain stand;<br>Nor dread the bold Invader's Hand:<br>From adverse Shoars in Safety let Her hear<br>Foreign Calamity, and distant War;<br>Of which let Her, great Heav'n, no Portion bear.<br>Betwixt the Nations let Her hold the Scale;<br>And as She wills, let either Part prevail:<br>Let her glad Vallies smile with wavy Corn:<br>Let fleecy Flocks her rising Hills adorn:<br>Around her Coast let strong Defence be spread:<br>Let fair Abundance on her Breast be shed:<br>And Heav'nly Sweets bloom round the Goddess' Head.<br>Where the white Towers and ancient Roofs did stand,<br>Remains of Wolsey's or great Henry's Hand,<br>To Age now yielding, or devour'd by Flame;<br>Let a young Phenix raise her tow'ring Head:<br>Her Wings with lengthen'd Honour let Her spread;<br>And by her Greatness show her Builder's Fame.<br>August and Open, as the Hero's Mind,<br>Be her capacious Courts design'd:<br>Let ev'ry Sacred Pillar bear<br>Trophies of Arms, and Monuments of War.<br>The King shall there in Parian Marble breath,<br>His Shoulder bleeding fresh: and at His Feet<br>Disarm'd shall lye the threat'ning Death:<br>(For so was saving Jove's Decree compleat.)<br>Behind, That Angel shall be plac'd, whose Shield<br>Sav'd Europe, in the Blow repell'd:<br>On the firm Basis, from his Oozy Bed<br>Boyn shall raise his Laurell'd Head;<br>And his Immortal Stream be known,<br>Artfully waving thro' the wounded Stone.<br>And Thou, Imperial Windsor, stand inlarg'd,<br>With all the Monarch's Trophies charg'd:<br>Thou, the fair Heav'n, that dost the Stars inclose,<br>Which William's Bosom wears, or Hand bestows<br>On the great Champions who support his Throne,<br>And Virtues nearest to His own.<br>Round Ormond's Knee Thou ty'st the Mystic String,<br>That makes the Knight Companion to the King.<br>From glorious Camps return'd, and foreign Feilds,<br>Bowing before thy sainted Warrior's Shrine,<br>Fast by his great Forefather's Coats, and Shields<br>Blazon'd from Bohun's, or from Butler's Line,<br>He hangs His Arms; nor fears those Arms should shine<br>With an unequal Ray; or that His Deed<br>With paler Glory should recede,<br>Eclips'd by Theirs; or lessen'd by the Fame<br>Ev'n of His own Maternal Nassaw's Name.<br>Thou smiling see'st great Dorset's Worth confest,<br>The Ray distinguishing the Patriot's Breast:<br>Born to protect and love, to help and please;<br>Sov'reign of Wit, and Ornament of Peace.<br>O! long as Breath informs this fleeting Frame,<br>Ne'er let me pass in Silence Dorset's Name;<br>Ne'er cease to mention the continu'd Debt,<br>Which the great Patron only would forget,<br>And Duty, long as Life, must study to acquit.<br>Renown'd in Thy Records shall Ca'ndish stand,<br>Asserting Legal Pow'r, and just Command:<br>To the great House thy Favour shall be shown,<br>The Father's Star transmissive to the Son.<br>From Thee the Talbot's and the Seymour's Race<br>Inform'd, Their Sire's immortal Steps shall trace:<br>Happy may their Sons receive<br>The bright Reward, which Thou alone canst give.<br>And if a God these lucky Numbers guide;<br>If sure Apollo o'er the Verse preside;<br>Jersey, belov'd by all (For all must feel<br>The Influence of a Form and Mind,<br>Where comely Grace and constant Virtue dwell,<br>Like mingl'd Streams, more forcible when join'd.)<br>Jersey shall at Thy Altars stand;<br>Shall there receive the Azure Band,<br>That fairest Mark of Favour and of Fame,<br>Familiar to the Vilier's Name.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Science to raise, and Knowledge to enlarge,<br>Be our great Master's future Charge;<br>To write His own Memoirs, and leave His Heirs<br>High Schemes of Government, and Plans of Wars;<br>By fair Rewards our Noble Youth to raise<br>To emulous Merit, and to Thirst of Praise;<br>To lead Them out from Ease e'er opening Dawn,<br>Through the thick Forest and the distant Lawn,<br>Where the fleet Stag employs their ardent Care;<br>And Chases give Them Images of War.<br>To teach Them Vigilance by false Alarms;<br>Inure Them in feign'd Camps to real Arms;<br>Practise Them now to curb the turning Steed,<br>Mocking the Foe; now to his rapid Speed<br>To give the Rein; and in the full Career,<br>To draw the certain Sword, or send the pointed Spear.<br>Let Him unite His Subjects Hearts,<br>Planting Societies for peaceful Arts;<br>Some that in Nature shall true Knowledge found,<br>And by Experiment make Precept sound;<br>Some that to Morals shall recal the Age,<br>And purge from vitious Dross the sinking Stage;<br>Some that with Care true Eloquence shall teach,<br>And to just Idioms fix our doubtful Speech:<br>That from our Writers distant Realms may know,<br>The Thanks We to our Monarch owe;<br>And Schools profess our Tongue through ev'ry Land,<br>That has invok'd His Aid, or blest His Hand.<br>Let His high Pow'r the drooping Muses rear.<br>The Muses only can reward His Care:<br>'Tis They that guard the great Atrides' Spoils:<br>'Tis They that still renew Ulysses' Toils:<br>To Them by smiling Jove 'twas giv'n, to save<br>Distinguish'd Patriots from the Common Grave;<br>To them, Great William's Glory to recal,<br>When Statues moulder, and when Arches fall.<br>Nor let the Muses, with ungrateful Pride,<br>The Sources of their Treasure hide:<br>The Heroe's Virtue does the String inspire,<br>When with big Joy They strike the living Lyre:<br>On William's Fame their Fate depends:<br>With Him the Song begins: with Him it ends.<br>From the bright Effluence of His Deed<br>They borrow that reflected Light,<br>With which the lasting Lamp They feed,<br>Whose Beams dispel the Damps of envious Night.<br>Through various Climes, and to each distant Pole<br>In happy Tides let active Commerce rowl:<br>Let Britain's Ships export an Annual Fleece,<br>Richer than Argos brought to ancient Greece;<br>Returning loaden with the shining Stores,<br>Which lye profuse on either India's Shores.<br>As our high Vessels pass their wat'ry Way,<br>Let all the Naval World due Homage pay;<br>With hasty Reverence their Top-Honours lower,<br>Confessing the asserted Power,<br>To Whom by Fate 'twas given, with happy Sway<br>To calm the Earth, and vindicate the Sea.<br>Our Pray'rs are heard, our Master's Fleets shall go,<br>As far as Winds can bear, or Waters flow,<br>New Lands to make, new Indies to explore,<br>In Worlds unknown to plant Britannia's Power;<br>Nations yet wild by Precept to reclaim,<br>And teach 'em Arms, and Arts, in William's Name.<br>With humble Joy, and with respectful Fear<br>The list'ning People shall His Story hear,<br>The Wounds He bore, the Dangers He sustain'd,<br>How far he Conquer'd, and how well he Reign'd;<br>Shall own his Mercy equal to His Fame;<br>And form their Children's Accents to His Name,<br>Enquiring how, and when from Heav'n He came.<br>Their Regal Tyrants shall with Blushes hide<br>Their little Lusts of Arbitrary Pride,<br>Nor bear to see their Vassals ty'd:<br>When William's Virtues raise their opening Thought,<br>His forty Years for Publick Freedom fought,<br>Europe by His Hand sustain'd,<br>His Conquest by His Piety restrain'd,<br>And o'er Himself the last great Triumph gain'd.<br>No longer shall their wretched Zeal adore<br>Ideas of destructive Power,<br>Spirits that hurt, and Godheads that devour:<br>New Incense They shall bring, new Altars raise,<br>And fill their Temples with a Stranger's Praise;<br>When the Great Father's Character They find<br>Visibly stampt upon the Hero's Mind;<br>And own a present Deity confest,<br>In Valour that preserv'd, and Power that bless'd.<br>Through the large Convex of the Azure Sky<br>(For thither Nature casts our common Eye)<br>Fierce Meteors shoot their arbitrary Light;<br>And Comets march with lawless Horror bright:<br>These hear no Rule, no righteous Order own;<br>Their Influence dreaded, as their Ways unknown:<br>Thro' threaten'd Lands They wild Destruction throw;<br>'Till ardent Prayer averts the Public Woe:<br>But the bright Orb that blesses all above,<br>The sacred Fire, the real Son of Jove,<br>Rules not His Actions by Capricious Will;<br>Nor by ungovern'd Power declines to Ill:<br>Fix'd by just Laws He goes for ever right:<br>Man knows His Course, and thence adores His Light.<br>O Janus! would intreated Fate conspire<br>To grant what Britain's Wishes could require;<br>Above, That Sun should cease his Way to go,<br>E'er William cease to rule, and bless below:<br>But a relentless Destiny<br>Urges all that e'er was born:<br>Snatch'd from her Arms, Britannia once must mourn<br>The Demi-God: The Earthly Half must die.<br>Yet if our Incense can Your Wrath remove;<br>If human Prayers avail on Minds above;<br>Exert, great God, Thy Int'rest in the Sky;<br>Gain each kind Pow'r, each Guardian Deity,<br>That conquer'd by the publick Vow,<br>They bear the dismal Mischief far away:<br>O! long as utmost Nature may allow,<br>Let Them retard the threaten'd Day:<br>Still be our Master's Life Thy happy Care:<br>Still let His Blessings with His Years increase:<br>To His laborious Youth consum'd in War,<br>Add lasting Age, adorn'd and crown'd with Peace:<br>Let twisted Olive bind those Laurels fast,<br>Whose Verdure must for ever last.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Long let this growing AEra bless His Sway:<br>And let our Sons His present Rule obey:<br>On His sure Virtue long let Earth rely:<br>And late let the Imperial Eagle fly,<br>To bear the Hero thro' His Father's Sky,<br>To Leda's Twins, or He whose glorious Speed<br>On Foot prevail'd, or He who tam'd the Steed;<br>To Hercules, at length absolv'd by Fate<br>From Earthly Toil, and above Envy great;<br>To Virgil's Theme, bright Cytherea's Son,<br>Sire of the Latian, and the British Throne;<br>To all the radiant Names above,<br>Rever'd by Men, and dear to Jove.<br>Late, Janus, let the Nassaw-Star<br>New born, in rising Majesty appear,<br>To triumph over vanquish'd Night,<br>And guide the prosp'rous Mariner<br>With everlasting Beams of friendly Light.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Matthew+Prior">Matthew Prior</a><div class=q> <img src="https://www.citatepedia.ro/g/32share.png" style="float:left" alt="Share"> <script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=457116" data-title="Carmen Seculare. For the Year 1700. To The King de Matthew Prior" data-description="Thy elder Look, Great Janus, cast Into the long Records of Ages past: Review the Years in fairest Action drest With noted White, Superior to the rest; Aera's deriv'd, and Chronicles begun From Empires founded, and from Battels won: Show all the Sp..."></div> </div> </div>

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