Classic Poem

High, in thy starry orb,
Great ruling planet of our brighten'd sphere,
The muse invokes thee, and demands thy ear!
Her HARLEY 's ear! O yet , confess the name!
Thy titles borrow lustre from thy fame .

F EARLESS , to fall, my rein-loos'd fancy soars,
High, as thy deeds, nor common aid implores:
Let conscious fawners blow their smoaky fire,
And vainly bid th' unlist'ning gods inspire;
My muse , disdainful of their sullied wings,
Views the vast height , and, dauntless , upward springs,
Inspir'd, like angels , by the worth, she sings.

Y ET , oh! mistake not my aspiring lays;
They wou'd but speak my duty , not your praise:
Praises, like yours , who lives , and does not know?
The poorest debtors count the sums, they owe ;
But I, impatient of the growing score ,
Wou'd pay you something, e'er I owe you more!

A CCEPT , great guider of the stormy state,
An off'ring worthy of the brave and great:
Accept, what heav'n, propitious for your sake,
Smiles on this peace-bless'd land, and bids her take:
This art of old , had been some altar's due ,
Now , fir'd, with purer zeal, she kneels to you .
That awful pow'r, who guards our Anna 's throne,
And to that Anna , made your virtues known,
To place such worth , above all wish'd controul,
Bless'd the long labours of your peaceful soul;
But one thing wanted , — Fam'd Minerva 's tree ,
The gift of peace , from gods to men, like thee,
That oleous plant, the pride of sunnier climes,
Chief in the poets songs of antient times,
Too long prophan'd , for thy chaste brow to wear ,
Fled the cool influence of the Northern Bear .
Heaven's voice was heard — deficient nature groan'd,
Felt his new will , and the correction own'd.
The humblest forest of our favour'd land,
Grew proud beneath this bounty of his hand,
Confess'd the secret , he vouchsaf'd to teach,
Disdain'd the olive , and enthron'd the beech .

H AIL , happy tree! wou'd after ages know,
To whom their sons thy oily harvests owe,
Oxford 's lov'd name, deep on thy bosom, grave,
Who, from his country, did his country save;
Who gave our harass'd land its long-wish'd rest,
And forc'd unwilling nations , to be blest;
Whose known esteem of arts gave birth to thee,
Omen of greater , which, e'er long shall be.

T HY pious hand , which made war's thunder cease,
Shall cultivate the nobler arts of peace ;
'Till murm'ring faction owns, with thankless joy,
'Tis far more great, to build , than to destroy .

N OR shall thy rising country's son's alone,
Thy wiser care of their lost int'rest own.
The boundless blessings of thy lib'ral hand,
Shall shed their influence, on our fruitful land :
The long-mourn'd absence of th' inspiring plant,
Whose pow'rful juice ungrinds the edge of want ,
Whose sov'reign strength makes glad the lab'rer's toil,
Shall now , no more reproach our injur'd soil:
Our teeming glebe, if I a-right divine,
E'er long, shall swell, with floods of gen'rous wine ;
France shall no more her courted vineyards boast,
But look, with envy , on our northern coast,
Which now enrich'd, with matchless oil and corn ,
Unequal'd vintages shall soon adorn.

Nor this alone! on, on, prophetic fire!
Tho' boundless is the flight , disdain to tire ;
Unwearied, all his glorious aims pursue,
'Till sickning envy dies, to shun the view.

Fir'd with the sure presage , methinks I see
The struggling east resign her morian tree;
The roughest Dryads of our oaken isle,
Charm'd with the gentle stranger, learn to smile;
The dancing boughs their breezy homage pay,
The oak nods welcome, and the beech gives way.
And now, glad spring , by rising warmth, renew'd,
The various insect seeks its leafy food,
Spins out its little life's industrious thread,
In grateful toil, to find its feeders bread,
Dies a rich recompence of female care,
And leaves its silken treasures to the fair;
The fair, long mindful, whence th' advantage came,
Shall teach their sons to speak, by lisping HARLEY 's name .

From views , like thine, with thy vast knowledge , join'd,
What blessings may not happy Britain find?
Fierce emulation shall new pow'rs impart,
'Till ev'ry wish grows possible to art;
Rivers shall roll, where now , huge mountains grow,
And tides, new channel'd, wonder how they flow.
For thee , proud Thames his wealthy arms shall spread,
And take the swift Sabrina to his bed.
Enamour'd Trent shall love-sick Avon meet.
And distant seas, in mix'd alliance , meet.

Dear, to thy care, ev'n th' unhoping SCOT
Shall bless the union , and hold fast the knot ;
Britain no longer shall explore, from far,
The costly magazines of naval war;
High on the mountains of her northern shore,
The gummy pine shall shed her pitchy store;
Tall firs , which, useless, have long ages grown,
Shall fright the seas, and visit worlds unknown;
'Till the check'd sons of Norway 's timber'd state,
Learn love , by force, while we disarm their hate .

And, here, rejoice, ye Caledonian shores,
Whose empty strands my friendly muse deplores:
Shortly, strong fleets shall plow your stormy seas,
And wealth 's warm breath your icy ports unfreeze!
The Belgic spoiler shall no more pursue
Those finny shoals, which court your guides , and you ;
Summon'd to greatness , worthy of your fame ,
Nor ill-supported, in the gen'rous aim ,
Approaching time shall see you, justly brave,
Assert the right, which God , and nature , gave.
Then shall that fire, which, now , your bosoms fills,
With virtues, useless, on your barren hills,
New-nerve the grasp of application 's hand,
And rouse the latent glories of your land .

Wide lies a tract, beneath the sunny line ,
Where rays direct with burning lustre shine;
Where ribs of silver bind the sea-wash'd plains,
And virgin wealth , unmix'd with av'rice , reigns.
This , the proud Spaniard never yet possess'd,
So much has heav'n the happy natives bless'd;
Reserv'd for British rule, their isthmus , free,
Divides the northern , from the southern sea.

Nor this , the hapless tract, the direful spot,
Dear , to the brave, the unpermitted SCOT .
North of that sad, that ill-remember'd shore,
A happier work does happier hands implore.

Here shall the sons of our advent'rous land,
Through unborn ages, stretch decreed command;
Here shall they draw both oceans to their sway,
And thro' repugnant mountains cut their way:
'Tis done! methinks, I hear their cannons roar,
Hostile repiners shun the envied shore,
And round vast capes , a tedious course pursue,
While we , and only we , possess the new .
Hence shall the shorten'd distance guard our health ,
Secure our traffick , and increase our wealth :
The western bullion , to our merchants, sold,
Shall send us weight for weight, in eastern gold .
Nor, then, shall Asia 's aromatic store
Pile the proud markets of a neighb'ring shore;
All shall be ours , and, while we all maintain,
No bloody war shall the chaste vict'ry stain.

O blind prophaners of obtruded bliss!
Who, wanting soul , to fathom depth, like this,
Instead of owning debts, you cannot pay ,
Strike at the friendly hand, which points the way,

Forgive, thou great inspirer of my song,
If, ending here , thy wider views I wrong;
If arts more wish'd , or worlds less known there were,
Thy ne plus ultra had not rested there .