But how, blest sovereign! shall th’unpractis’d muse
    These recent honours of thy reign rehearse! 
  How to thy virtues turn her dazzled views,
    Or consecrate thy deeds in equal verse! 
  Amidst the field of horrors wide display’d,
    How paint the calm[4] that smil’d upon, thy brow! 
  Or speak that thought which every part surveyed,
    ’Directing where the rage of war should glow:’[5]
  While watchful angels hover’d round thy head,
  And victory on high the palm of glory spread.

XIV.

  Nor royal youth reject the artless praise,
    Which due to worth like thine the Muse bestows,
  Who with prophetic extasy surveys
    These early wreaths of fame adorn thy brows. 
  Aspire like Nassau in the glorious strife,
    Keep thy great fires’ examples full in eye;
  But oh! for Britain’s sake, consult a life
    The noblest triumphs are too mean to buy;
  And while you purchase glory—­bear in mind,
  A prince’s truest fame is to protect mankind.

XV.

  Alike in arts and arms acknowledg’d great,
    Let Stair accept the lays he once could own! 
  Nor Carteret, thou the column of the state! 
    The friend of science! on the labour frown! 
  Nor shall, unjust to foreign worth, the Muse
    In silence Austria’s valiant chiefs conceal;
  While Aremberg’s heroic line she views,
    And Neiperg’s conduct strikes even envy pale: 
  Names Gallia yet shall further learn to fear,
  And Britain, grateful still, shall treasure up as dear!

XIX.

  But oh! acknowledg’d victor in the field,
    What thanks, dread sovereign, shall thy toils reward! 
  Such honours as delivered nations yield,
    Such for thy virtues justly stand prepar’d: 
  When erst on Oudenarde’s decisive plain,
    Before thy youth, the Gaul defeated fled,
  The eye of fate[6] foresaw on distant Maine,
    The laurels now that shine around thy head: 
  Oh should entwin’d with these fresh Olives bloom! 
  Thy Triumphs then would shame the pride of antient Rome.

XX.

  Mean time, while from this fair event we shew
    That British valour happily survives,
  And cherish’d by the king’s propitious view,
    The rising plant of glory sweetly thrives! 
  Let all domestic faction learn to cease,
    Till humbled Gaul no more the world alarms: 
  Till GEORGE procures to Europe solid peace,
    A peace secur’d by his victorious arms: 
  And binds in iron fetters ear to ear,
  Ambition, Rapine, Havock, and Despair,
  With all the ghastly fiends of desolating war.

FOOTNOTES: