And from his brows damps of oblivion shed
Full on the filial dulness: Long he stood,
Repelling from his breast the raging god:
At length burst out in this prophetic mood.
"Heav'ns! bless my son! from Ireland let him reign
To far Barbadoes on the western main;
Of his dominion may no end be known,
And greater than his father's be his throne;
Beyond Love's kingdom let him stretch his pen!—"
He paus'd, and all the people cry'd "Amen".