He who from Coromandel's shores
His perfected discovery brought;
He by whose generous toils

This foul reproach ere long shall be effaced,
This root of evil be eradicate !
Yea, generations yet unborn
Shall owe their weal to him,
And future nations bless
The honour'd name of Bell.

9.

Now may that blessed edifice
Of public good be rear'd
Which holy Edward traced,

The spotless Tudor, he whom Death

Too early summon'd to his heavenly throne. For Brunswick's line was this great work reserved, For Brunswick's fated line;

They who from papal darkness, and the thrall Of that worst bondage which doth hold The immortal spirit chain'd,

Saved us in happy hour.

Fitly for them was this great work reserved;
So, Britain, shall thine aged monarch's wish
Receive its due accomplishment,

That wish which with the good,
(Had he no other praise,)

Through all succeeding times would rank his name,
That all within his realms

VOL. III.

Might learn the Book, which all
Who rightly learn shall live.

10.

From public fountains the perennial stream
Of public weal must flow.

O England! wheresoe'er thy churches stand,
There on that sacred ground,
Where the rich harvest of mortality

Is laid, as in a garner, treasured up,
There plant the Tree of Knowledge! Water it
With thy perpetual bounty! It shall spread
Its branches o'er the venerable pile,
Shield it against the storm,
And bring forth fruits of life.

11.

Train up thy children, England! in the ways
Of righteousness, and feed them with the bread
Of wholesome doctrine. Where hast thou thy mines
But in their industry?

Thy bulwarks where, but in their breasts?
Thy might, but in their arms?

Shall not their numbers therefore be thy wealth,
Thy strength, thy power, thy safety, and thy pride?
Oh grief then, grief and shame,
If, in this flourishing land,

There should be dwellings where the new-born babe Doth bring unto its parent's soul no joy! Where squalid Poverty

Receives it at its birth,

And on her wither'd knees

Gives it the scanty food of discontent!

12.

Queen of the Seas! enlarge thyself;
Redundant as thou art of life and power,
Be thou the hive of nations,
And send thy swarms abroad!
Send them like Greece of old,
With arts and science to enrich
The uncultivated earth;

But with more precious gifts than Greece or Tyre Or elder Egypt, to the world bequeath'd; Just laws, and rightful polity,

And, crowning all, the dearest boon of Heaven, Its word and will reveal'd.

Queen of the Seas! enlarge

The place of thy pavilion. Let them stretch
The curtains of thine habitations forth;
Spare not; but lengthen thou
Thy cords, make strong thy stakes.

13.

Queen of the Seas! enlarge thyself;
Send thou thy swarms abroad!
For in the years to come,

Though centuries or millenniums intervene,
Where'er thy progeny,

Thy language, and thy spirit shall be found,..
If on Ontario's shores,

Or late-explored Missouri's pastures wide, Or in that Austral world long sought, The many-isled Pacific,.. yea where waves, Now breaking over coral reefs, affright The venturous mariner,

When islands shall have grown, and cities risen
In cocoa groves embower'd; ..
Where'er thy language lives,

By whatsoever name the land be call'd,
That land is English still, and there
Thy influential spirit dwells and reigns.
Thrones fall, and Dynasties are changed;
Empires decay and sink

Beneath their own unwieldy weight;
Dominion passeth like a cloud away :
The imperishable mind
Survives all meaner things.

14.

Train up thy children, England, in the ways Of righteousness, and feed them with the bread Of wholesome doctrine. Send thy swarms abroad! Send forth thy humanizing arts,

Thy stirring enterprize,

Thy liberal polity, thy Gospel light!
Illume the dark idolater,

Reclaim the savage!

O thou Ocean Queen!

Be these thy toils when thou hast laid
The thunderbolt aside :

He who hath blest thine arms

Will bless thee in these holy works of Peace! Father! thy kingdom come, and as in Heaven Thy will be done on Earth!

Keswick.

CARMINA AULICA,

WRITTEN IN 1814,

ON

THE ARRIVAL OF THE ALLIED SOVEREIGNS

IN ENGLAND.

Εχω καλά τε φράσαι, τόλμα τέ μοι

Εὐθεῖα γλῶσσαν ὀρνύει λέγειν.

PINDAR, OLYMP. XIII.