The priests, who humble temperance should profefs, 125 Four times a year proclaim'd a civil war, 130 Where daily kinsman, father, fon, and brother, Hence cavils rofe 'gainft Heaven's and Cæfar's cause, Till fo at laft rebellion's bafe was laid, 135 140 But that good angel whofe furmounting power Waited great Charles in each emergent hour, Againft whofe care hell vainly did decree, Nor fafter could defign than that foresee, Guarding the crown upon his facred brow From all its blackeft arts, was with him now, Affur'd him peace must be for him design'd, For he was born to give it all mankind. By patience, mercies large, and many toils, In his own realms to calm inteftine broils, Thence every root of difcord to remove, And plant us new with unity and love. Then stretch his healing hands to neighbouring shores, Where flaughter rages, and wild rapine roars ; To cool their ferments with the charms of peace, Who, fo their madness and their rage might cease, 145 150 Grow Grow all (embracing what such frendship brings) But now (alas!) in the fad grave he lies, 155 Yet fhall his praise for ever live, and laurels from it rise. For this affurance pious thanks he paid ; Then in his mind the beauteous model laid 160 165 Curious to fee what Fame fo far had spread. There tell, my Mufe, what wonders thou didst find, Worthy thy song, and his celeftial mind. 170 'Twas at that joyful hallow'd day's return, On which that man of miracles was born, At whofe great birth appear'd a noon-day star, 175 Which prodigy foretold yet many more; Did strange escapes from dreadful Fate declare, Nor fhin'd, but for one greater king before. Though now (alas!) in the fad grave he lies, Yet fhall his praise for ever live, and laurels from it rife. For this great day were equal joys prepar'd, The voice of triumph on the hills was heard; Redoubled fhoutings wak'd the echo's round, And chearful bowls with loyal vows were crown'd. 180 But, But, above all, within thofe lofty towers, 185 Tell then, my Muse, what wonders thou didst find Worthy thy fong and his celeftial mind. Within a gate of strength, whose ancient frame Has outworn Time, and the records of Fame, 190 A reverend dome there ftands, where twice each day In prayers and hymns to heaven's eternal king, To the bleft gospel of that glorious lord, 195 Here speak, my Mufe, what wonders thou didft find Within this dome a fhining + chapel's rais'd, 200 I ftood, and gaz'd with pleasing wonder round, A threatening rod did his dread right hand poize, 210 * St. George's Church. + St. George's Chapel. This courteous fquire, obferving how amaz'd Thus gently fpoke: "Those banners* rais'd on high "Betoken noble vows of chivalry; "Which here their heroes with religion make, 215 I turn'd around my eyes, and, lo, a † cell, 225 } 230 Where dark oblivion lurk'd and watch'd for prey. 235 *Of the Knights of the Garter. † An old ifle in the church, where the banner of a dead knight is carried, when another fucceeds him. Here, Here, in a heap of confus'd waste, I found With other men, was now nor great nor brave; Fell in his prince's and his country's caufe; 240 245 And happy that man's chance who falls in time, 250 Ere yet his virtue be become his crime; Ere his abus'd defert be call'd his pride, Or fools and villains on his ruin ride. But truly bleft is he, whose foul can bear The wrongs of fate, nor think them worth his care; 255 Whofe mind no disappointment here can shake, Who a true eftimate of life does make, Knows 'tis uncertain, frail, and will have end, 265 But |