Classic Poem

While foreign Climes are rent with dire Alarms,
The Shout of Battle, and the Clang of Arms,
Britannia , happy in her Monarch's Care,
Enjoys at once the Fruits of Peace, and War;
And, while her Thunders o'er the Ocean roll,
And spread her rising Fame from Pole to Pole,
Sees her victorious Fleets the Sea command,
And Plenty, Wealth, and Pleasure bless the Land:
Fair Science joyful, lifts her laurell'd Head,
The Muses, in the Groves delighted tread;
Or, near the Azure Fount, or haunted Spring,
Their great INSPIRER and PROTECTOR sing;
The Woods, the Vales resound Augustus' Name,
His glorious Actions, and immortal Fame
Shou'd Heav'n the inimitable Shakespear raise
To breathe historic Truth in tuneful Lays,
How wou'd the Poet in sublimer Strains
With GEORGE'S Virtue elevate his Scenes?
Transmit his Wisdom to the future Age,
The noblest Theme that e'er adorn'd a Stage!
Not the Great Ruler of the genial Year,
Whose radiant Beams the whole Creation chear,
Inspires such Joy, such Rapture, such Delight,
As swells each Bosom at their Monarch's Sight.
Oh, may our Loyalty this Bliss deserve,
And Heav'n the Hero to our Hopes preserve!