And hark! the solemn Pæans grateful rise
From rural Whittington's o'erflowing fane;
And, with the heart's pure incense to the skies,
Its venerable Shepherd's[44] hallow'd strain.
See! pointing to the memorable scene,
He bids that Heath[45] to latest times be known,
Whence her three Champions[46], Freedom, heaven-born Queen,
Led with fresh glories to the British Throne.
Oh, Friend! upon whose natal morn[47] 'tis given,
When seventeen Lustres mark thy letter'd days,
To lead the Hymn of Gratitude to Heav'n,
And blend the Christian's with the Briton's praise.
Like hoary Sarpis[48], patriot Sage, thy pray'r
With Life shall close in his emphatic Strain;
"As on this day, may Freedom, ever fair,
In Britain flourish, and for ever reign!"
Eyam, Derbyshire.
P. C.
Ode for the Revolution Jubilee, 1788.
When lawless Power his iron hand,
When blinded Zeal her flaming brand
O'er Albion's Island wav'd;
Indignant freedom veil'd the sight;
Eclips'd her Son of Glory's light;
Her fav'rite Realm enslav'd.
Distrest she wander'd:—when afar
She saw her Nassau's friendly star
Stream through the stormy air:
She call'd around a Patriot Band;
She bade them save a sinking land;
And deathless glory share.