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Could prayers or fighs the dauntless hero move ? Arm'd with Heaven's justice, and his people's love, Through the first waves he wing’d his venturous way,

And on the adverse shore arose, (Ten thousand flying deaths in vain oppose).

Like the great Ruler of the day,
With strength and swiftnefs mounting from the sea :.
Like him all day he toil'd; but long in night

The god had eas’d his wearied light,
Ere vengeance left the stubborn foes,

Or William's labours found repose !
When his troops faulter'd, stept not he between

Restor'd the dubious fight again,
Mark'd out the coward that durst fly,
And led the fainting brave to Victory?

Still as she fled him, did he not o'ertake
Her doubtful course, still brought her bleeding back.
By his keen sword did not the boldest fall ?
Was he not king, commander, foldier, all ?-
His dangers such as, with becoming dread,
His subjects yet unborn fhall weep to read ?
And were not those the only days that e’er

The pious prince refus'd to hear
His friends' advices, or his fubječts' prayer?

X.
Where'er old Rhine his fruitful water turns,
Or fills his vallals' tributary urns ;
To Belgia's fav'd dominions, and the sea,
Whose righted waves rejoice in William's sway;

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Is there a town where children are not taught,
Here Holland prosper'd, for here Orange fought;
Through rapid waters, and through flying fire,
Here rush'd the prince, here made whole France retire?
By different nations be his valour blest,

In different languages confest;

And then let Shannon speak the rest :
Let Shannon speak, how on her wondering hore,
When Conquest hovering on his arms did wait,
And only ask'd some lives to bribe her o’er ;
The god-like man, the more than conqueror,
With high contempt sent back the specious bait;
And, fcorning glory at a price too great,
With so much power, such piety did join,

As made a perfect virtue foar

A pitch unknown to man before;
And lifted Shannon's waves o'er those of Boyne.

XI.
Nor do his subjects only share
The prosperous fruits of his indulgent reign;
His enemies

approve
Which, with their weapon,

takes
away

their chain.
More than his sword his goodness strikes bis foes ;
They bless his arms, and sigh they must oppose.
Justice and freedom on his conquests wait;
And 'tis for man's delight that he is great
Succeeding times shall with long joy contend,
If he were more a victor, or a friend :
So much his courage and his mercy strive,
He wounds, to cure; and conquers, to forgive..

XII. YO

the pious war,

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XII. Ye heroes, that have fought your country's cause, Redress’d her injuries, or form'd her laws, "Το my

adventurous fong just witness bear, Aflift the pious Muse, and hear her swear; That 'tis no Poet's thought, no flight of youth,

But solid story, and severest truth,
That William treasures up a greater name,
Than any country, any age, can boast :

And all that ancient stock of faine

He did from his fore-fathers take,
He has improv'd, and gives with interest back;
And in his constellation does unite
Their scatter'd

rays

of fainter light : Above or Envy's lash, or Fortune's wheel

That settled glory shall for ever dwell: Above the rolling orbs, and common sky, Where nothing comes that e'er shall die.

XIII.
Where roves the Muse? Where, thoughtless to return,

Is her short-liv'd vessel borne,
By potent winds too subject to be tost,
And in the sea of William's praises lost?
Nor let her tempt that deep, nor make the shore,

Where our abandon'd youth Me sees,
Shipwreck’d in luxury, and lost in ease;
* Whom nor Britannia's danger can alarm,

Nor William's exemplary virtue warm : Tell them, howe'er, the king can yet forgive 'Their guilty soth, their homage yet receive, ind let their wounded honour live :

But sure and sudden be their just remorse ;
Swift be their virtue's rise, and strong its course ;
For though for certain years and destind times,

Merit has lain confus’d with crimes ;
Though Jove seem'd negligent of human cares,
Nor scourg'd our follies, nor return’d our prayers,
His justice now demands the equal scales,
Sedition is suppress’d, and truth prevails :
Fate its great ends by slow degrees attains,
And Europe is redeem’d, and William reigns.

HYMN to the SUN. Set by Dr. H. PURCELL, And intended to be sung before their MAJESTIES on New-year's day, 1693-4.

I.
LIGHT of the world, and ruler of the year,

With happy speed begin thy great career ;
And, as thou dost thy radiant journies run,
Through every distant climate own,

That in fair Albion thou hast feen

The greatest prince, the brightest queen,
That ever sav'd a land, or bleft a throne,
-Since first thy beams were spread, or genial power was
known.

II.
So may thy godhead be confeft,
So the returning year be blest,

As

As his infant months bestow
Springing wreaths for William's brow;

As his summer's youth shall shed
Eternal sweets around Maria's head.
From the blessings they bestow,

Our times are dated, and our æra's move :
They govern and enlighten all below,
As thou dost all above.

III.
Let our hero in the war
Active and fierce, like thee, appear :
Like thee, great son of Jove, like thee

When, clad in rising majesty,
Thou marcheít down o'er Delos' hills confest,
With all thy arrows arm’d, in all thy glory drest.
Like thee, the hero does his arms employ,

The raging Python to destroy
And give the injur'd nations peace and joy.

IV.
From fairest years, and time's more happy stores,

Gather all the siniling hours ;
Such as with friendly care have guarded

Patriots and kings in rightful wars ;
Such as with conquest have rewarded

Triumphant victors' happy cares ;
Such as story has recorded
Sacred to Nassau's long renown,
For countries sav'd, and battles won.

V. March

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