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BY THOMAS G GEORGE PALMER.
1 3 Is
-Et tantas audetis tollere molles ?
on the sea-beat shore Britannia sat, Of her degenerate sons the faded fame Deep in her anxious heart revolving sad, Bare was her throbbing bosom to the gale, That hoarse and hollow from the bleak surge blew; 5 Loose flow'd her tresses, rent her azure robe. Hung o'er the deep, from her majestic brow She tore the laurel, and she tore the bay ; Nor ceas’d the copious grief to bathe her cheek, Nor ceas'd her sobs to murmur to the main.
10 Peace discontented nigh, departing, stretch'd Her dove-like wings; and War, tho' greatly rous’d, Yet mourns his fetter'd hands; while thus the queen Of nations spoke, and what she said the muse Recorded, faithful, in unbidden verse.
“ E'en not yon sail, that from the sky-mixť wave
45 One triumph on their tongue. A passenger, The violated merchant comes along, That far-sought wealth, for which the noxious gale He drew and sweat beneath equator suns,
* Frederick, prince of Wales, then lately arrived.