‘Can I such matchless sleight withstand? 65 How practice hath improved your hand! But now and then I cheat the throng; You every day, and all day long.’ _John Gay._ CXL _RULE BRITANNIA._ When Britain first at Heaven’s command Arose from out the azure main, This was the charter of her land, And guardian angels sung the strain: Rule Britannia! Britannia rules the waves! 5 Britons never shall be slaves. The nations not so blest as thee Must in their turn to tyrants fall, Whilst thou shalt flourish great and free, The dread and envy of them all. 10 Still more majestic shalt thou rise, More dreadful from each foreign stroke; As the loud blast that tears the skies Serves but to root thy native oak. Thee haughty tyrants ne’er shall tame; 15 All their attempts to bend thee down Will but arouse thy generous flame, And work their woe and thy renown. To thee belongs the rural reign; Thy cities shall with commerce shine; 20 All thine shall be the subject main, And every shore it circles thine! The Muses, still with Freedom found, Shall to thy happy coast repair; Blest Isle, with matchless beauty crowned, 25 And manly hearts to guard the fair:-- Rule Britannia! Britannia rules the waves! Britons never shall be slaves! _James Thomson._ CXLI _ADMIRAL HOSIER’S GHOST._ ON THE TAKING OF PORTO-BELLO BY ADMIRAL VERNON. NOV. 22, 1739. As near Porto-Bello lying On the gently swelling flood, At midnight with streamers flying Our triumphant navy rode: There while Vernon sat all-glorious 5 From the Spaniards’ late defeat; And his crews, with shouts victorious, Drank success to England’s fleet; On a sudden, shrilly sounding, Hideous yells and shrieks were heard; 10 Then each heart with fear confounding, A sad troop of ghosts appeared, All in dreary hammocks shrouded, Which for winding-sheets they wore, And with looks by sorrow clouded, 15 Frowning on that hostile shore. On them gleamed the moon’s wan lustre, When the shade of Hosier brave His pale bands was seen to muster, Rising from their watery grave: 20 O’er the glimmering wave he hied him, Where the Burford reared her sail, With three thousand ghosts beside him, And in groans did Vernon hail: