The Royal Progress

When Brunswick first appear'd each honest heart Intent on verse disdain'd the rules of art; For him the songsters in unmeasur'd odes Debas'd Alcides and dethron'd the gods, In golden chains the kings of India led, Or rent the turban from the Sultan's head. One in old fables and the Pagan strain With nymphs and Tritons wafts him o'er the main; Another draws fierce Lucifer in arms, And fills th' infernal region with alarms; A third awakes some Druid to foretel Each future triumph from his dreary cell. Exploded fancies! that in vain deceive, While the Mind nauseates what she cann't believe. My Muse th' expected hero shall pursue From clime to clime, and keep him still in view; His shining march describe in faithful lays, Content to paint him, nor presume to praise: Their charms, if charms they have, the truth supplies, And from the theme unlabour'd beauties rise, By longing nations for the throne design'd, And call'd to guard the rights of humankind, With secret grief his godlike soul repines, And Britain's crown with joyless lustre shines, While pray'rs and tears his destin'd progress stay, And crowds of mourners choke their sov'reign's way. Not so he march'd when hostile squadrons stood In scenes of death and fir'd his gen'rous blood; When his hot courser paw'd th' Hungarian plain, And adverse legions stood the shock in vain, His frontiers past the Belgian bounds he views, And cross the level fields his march pursues: Here pleas'd the land of Freedom to survey, He greatly scorns the thirst of boundless sway: O'er the thin soil with silent joy he spies Transplanted woods and borrow'd verdure rise, Where ev'ry meadow won with toil and blood From haughty tyrants and the raging flood, With fruit and flow'rs the careful hind supplies, And clothes the marshes in a rich disguise; Such wealth for frugal hands doth Heav'n decree, And such thy gifts, celestial Liberty! Thro' stately towns and many a fertile plain The pomp advances to the neighb'ring main, Whole nations crowd around with joyful cries, And view the hero with insatiate eyes. In Haga's tow'rs he waits till eastern gales Propitious rise to swell the British sails; Hither the fame of England's monarch brings The vows and friendships of the neighb'ring kings. Mature in wisdom, his extensive mind Takes in the blended int'rests of mankind. The world's great patriot! calm thy anxious breast; Secure in him, O Europe! take thy rest: Henceforth thy kingdoms shall remain confin'd By rocks or streams, the mounds which Heav'n design'd; The Alps their new made monarch shall restrain, Nor shall thy hills, Pirene! rise in vain. But see! to Briton's isle the squadrons stand, And leave the sinking tow'rs and less'ning land; The royal bark bounds o'er the floating plain, Breaks thro' the billows and divides the main. O'er the vast deep, great Monarch! dart thine eyes, A wat'ry prospect bounded by the skies; Ten thousand vessels from ten thousand shores Bring gums and gold, and either India's stores; Behold the tributes hast'ning to thy throne, And see the wide horizon all thy own! Still is it thine. Tho' now the cheerful crew Hail Albion's cliffs just whitening to the view, Before the wind with swelling sails they ride Till Thames receives them in his op'ning tide. The monarch hears the thund'ring peals around From trembling woods and echoing hills rebound, Nor misses yet amid the deaf'ning train The roarings of the hoarse resounding main. As in the flood he sails from either side He views his kingdom in its rural pride; A various scene the wide spread landscape yields. O'er rich enclosures and luxuriant fields; A lowing herd each fertile pasture fills, And distant flocks stray o'er a thousand hills: Fair Greenwich hid in woods with new delight Shade above shade now rises to the sight, His woods ordain'd to visit ev'ry shore, And guard the island which they grac'd before. The sun now rolling down the western way A blaze of fires renews the fading day; Unnumber'd barks the regal barge infold, Bright'ning the twilight with its beamy gold; Less thick the finny shoals, a countless fry! Before the whale or kingly dolphin fly. In one vast shout he seeks the crowded strand, And in a peal of thunder gains the land. Welcome, great Stranger! to our longing eyes; Oh king desir'd! adopted Albion cries, For thee the East breath'd out a prosp'rous breeze, Bright were the suns and gently swell'd the seas; Thy presence did each doubtful heart compose, And factions wonder'd that they once were foes; That joyful day they lost each hostile name, The same their aspect and their voice the same. So two fair twins, whose features were design'd At one soft moment in the mother's mind, Show each the other with reflected grace, And the same beauties bloom in either face, The puzzled strangers which is which inquire, Delusion grateful to the smiling sire. From that fair hill where hoary sages boast To name the stars and count the heav'nly host, By the next dawn doth great Augusta rise, Proud Town! the noblest scene beneath the skies! O'er Thames her thousand spires their lustre shed, And a vast navy hides his ample bed, A floating forest! from the distant strand A line of golden cars strikes o'er the land; Britannia's peers in pomp and rich array Before their king triumphant lead the way: Far as the eye can reach the gaudy train A bright procession shines along the plain. So haply thro' the heav'n's wide pathless ways A comet draws a long extended blaze, From east to west burns thro' th' ethereal frame, And half heav'n's convex glitters with the flame. Now to the regal tow'rs securely brought He plans Britannia's glories in his thought, Resumes the delegated pow'r he gave, Rewards the faithful and restores the brave. Whom shall the Muse from out the shining throng Select to heighten and adorn her song? Thee, Halifax! to thy capacious mind, O Man approv'd! is Britain's wealth consign'd: Her coin while Nassau fought debas'd and rude, By thee in beauty and in truth renew'd, An arduous work! again thy charge we see, And thy own care once more returns to thee. O! form'd in ev'ry scene to awe and please, Mix wit with pomp and dignity with ease, Tho' call'd to shine aloft, thou wilt not scorn To smile on arts thyself did once adorn: For this thy name succeeding times shall praise, And envy less thy garter than thy bays. The Muse; if fir'd with thy enliv'ning beams, Perhaps shall aim at more exalted themes, Record our monarch in a nobler strain, And sing the op'ning wonders of his reign; Bright Carolina's heav'nly beauties trace, Her valiant consort and his blooming race. A train of kings their fruitful love supplies, A glorious scene to Albion's ravish'd eyes, Who sees by Brunswick's hand her sceptre sway'd, And thro' his line from age to age convey'd.