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But if immortal any thing remain,
Rejoice, my Muse, and strive that end to gain.
Thou kind dissolver of encroaching care,
And ease of every bitter weight I bear,
Keep from

my soul repining, while I sing 270
The praise and honour of this glorious king;
And farther tell what wonders thou didst find
Worthy thy song and his celestial mind.

Beyond the Dome a * lofty tower appears, Beauteous in strength, the work of long-past years, 275 Old as his 'noble stem, who there bears (way, And, like his loyalty, without decay, This goodly ancient frame looks as it stood The mother pile, and all the rest her brood. So careful watch seems piously to keep,

280 While underneath her wings the mighty sleep; And they may reft, fipce + Norfolk there commands, Safe in his faithful heart and valiant hands.

But now appears the beauteous feat of Peace, Large of extent, and fit for goodly ease;

285 Where noble order strikes the greedy fight With wonder, as it fills it with delight; The massy walls seem, as the womb of earth, Shrunk when such mighty quarries thence had birth; Or by the Theban founder they'd been rais’d, 290 And in his powerful numbers should be prais'd :

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* The Castle. + The Duke of Norfolk, Constable of Windsor Castle. # The Houfu.


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Such strength without does every where abound,
Within such glory and such fplendor's found,
As man's united skill had there combin'd
T'express what one great genius had design'd. 295

Thus, when the happy world Augustus fivay'd,
Knowledge was cherish'd, and improvement made
Learning and arts his empire did adorn,
Nor did there one neglected virtue mourn ;
But, at his call, from farthest nations came, 300
While the immortal Muses gave him fame.
Though when her far-ftretch'd empire flourish'd moft,
Rome never yet a work like this could boast :
No Cæfar e'er like Charles his pomp express’d,
Nor ever were his nations half so bleft:

Though now (alas !) in the fad grave he lies,
Yet shall his praise for ever live, and laurels from it rise.

Here, as all Nature's wealth to court him prest,
Seem'd to attend him Plenty, Peace, and Reft.
Through all the lofty roofs * defcrib'd we find 310
The toils and triumphs of his god-like mind :
A theme that might the noblest fancy warm,
And only fit for f his who did performn.
The walls adorn’d with richest woven goid,
Equal to what in temples shin’d of old,

Grac'd well the luftre of his royal ease,
Whose empire reach'd throughout the wealthy seas ;

* The Paintings done by t The Sieur Verrio, his Majesty's chief Painter.



Ease which he wisely chose, when raging arms
Kept neighbouring nations waking with alarms :
For when wars troubled her soft fountains there, 320
She swell'd her ítreams, and flow'd-in faster here ;
With her came Plenty, till our ille seem'd bless'd
As Canaan's shore, where Ifrael's sons found rest.
Therefore, when cruel spoilers, who have hurl'd
Waste and confusion through the wretched world, 325
To after-times leave a great hated name,
The praise of Peace shall' wait on Charles's fame ;
His country's father, through whose tender care,
Like a lull’d babe she slept, and knew no fear;
Who, when sh' offended, oft would hide his eyes, 330
Nør fee, because it griev'd him to chastize.
But if submission brought her to his feet,
With what true joy the penitent he'd meet!
How would his love still with his justice strive !
How parent-like, how fondly he:'d forgive! 335
But now (alas !) in the sad grave he lies,
Yet shall his praise for ever live, and laurels from it rise.

Since after all those toils through which he strove
By every art of most endearing love,
For his reward he had his Britain found,

340 The awe and envy of the nations round. Muse, then speak more what onders hou didft find Worthy thy song, and his celestial mind. Tell now what emulation may inspire, And warm each British heart with warlike fire ; Call all thy sisters of the sacred hill, And by the painter's pencil guide my quill ;



Describe that lofty monumental * hall,
Where England's triumphs grace the shining wall,
When she led captive kings from conquer'd Gaul.
Here when the fons of Fame their leader ineet,
And at their feasts in pompous order sit,
When the glad sparkling bowl inspires the board,
And high-rais'd thoughts great tales of war afford,
Here as a lesson


What their victorious fathers did of old ;
When their proud neighbours of the Gallic shore
Trembled to hear the English lion roar.
Here may they see how good old + Edward fat,
And did his † glorious fon's arrival wait,
When from the fields of vanquish'd France he came,
Follow'd by spoils, and usher'd in by Fame.
In golden chains he their quell’d monarch led.
Oh, for such laurels on another head !
Unfoil'd with floth, nor yet o'ercloy'd with peace, 365
We had not then learn'd the loose arts of ease.
In our own climes our vigorous youth were nurs’d,
And with no foreign educations curs’d.
Their northern metal was preserv'd with care,
Nor sent for softening into hotter air.

370 Nor did they ’as now from fruitless travels come With lies, vices, and diseases home; But in full purity of health and mind Kept up the noble virtues of their kind.


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* Where St. George's Feast is kept.
+ Edw. III. | The Black Prince.



Had not false senates to those ills dispos’d 375
Which long had England's happiness oppos'd
With stubborn faction and rebellious pride,
All means to such a noble end deny'd,
To Britain, Charles this glory had restor’d,
And those revolted nations own'd their lord.
Bus now (alas !) in the sad grave he lies,
Yet shall his praise for ever live, and laurels from it rise.

And now survey what 's open to our view,
Bow down all heads, and pay devotion due,
The* temple by this hero built behold,

385 Adorn'd with carvings, and o’erlaid with gold ; Whose radiant roof such glory does display, We think we see the heaven to which we pray ; So well the artist's hand has there delin'd The merciful redemption of mankind; The bright ascension of the Son of God, When back through yielding skies to heaven he rode, With lightning round his head, and thunder where

he trod. Thus when to Charles, as Solomon, was given Wisdom, the greatest gift of bounteous heaven ; 395 A house like his he built, and temple rais'd, Where his Creator might be fitly prais’d; With riches too and honours was he crown'd, Nor, whilst he liv'd, was there one like him found. Therefore what once to Israel's lord was said, 400 When Sheba's queen his glorious court survey'd,


* The Chapel at the end of the hall.



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