Nor did they from that warfare cease,
And sheath that hallowed sword in peace,
Until the work was done.’
Indeed, if Mr. S. can do no better than this, in his drawing-room verses, he should get some contributor to the Lady’s Magazine to polish them for him.
We have turned over the Ode again, which extends to twenty pages, in the hope of finding some one vigorous or striking passage for selection, but in vain. The following is the most likely to please in a certain quarter:—
‘Open thy gates, O Hanover! display
Thy loyal banners to the day!
Receive thy old illustrious line once more!
Beneath an upstart’s yoke oppress’d,
Long has it been thy fortune to deplore