For [4]Blood! thou’lt stand it all!
Thunder, ’tis said, the Laurel spares,
Nought but thy brow could blast it,
And yet! O curst provoking Stars!
Thy comfort is, thou hast it.
[4] Epilogue to the Non-juror.
An ODE to Sir Robert Walpole, for New-Year’s-Day, 1731.
I.
Guardian of Britannia’s glory,
Life and soul of Europe’s peace,