Thy sons of glory many! Alfred thine, In whom the splendor of heroic war And more heroic peace, when govern'd well, Combine; whose hallow'd name the virtues saint, And his own muses love--the best of kings. With him thy Edwards and thy Henrys shine, Names dear to fame, the first who deep impress'd On haughty Gaul the terror of thy arms, That awes her genius still. In statesmen thou, And patriots, fertile. Thine a steady More, Who, with a generous though mistaken zeal, Withstood a brutal tyrant's useful rage, Like Cato firm, like Aristides just, Like rigid Cincinnatus nobly poor-- A dauntless soul erect, who smil'd on death. Frugal and wise, a Walsingham is thine; A Drake, who made thee mistress of the deep, And bore thy name in thunder round the world. Then flam'd thy spirit high; but who can speak The numerous worthies of the maiden-reign? In Raleigh mark their every glory mix'd; Raleigh, the scourge of Spain; whose breast with all The sage, the patriot, and the hero burn'd. Nor sunk his vigor when a coward reign The warrior fetter'd, and at last resign'd, To glut the vengeance of a vanquish'd foe. Then, active still and unrestrain'd, his mind Explor'd the vast extent of ages past, And with his prison-hours enrich'd the world; Yet found no times, in all the long research, So glorious, or so base, as those he prov'd, In which he conquer'd, and in which he bled. Nor can the muse the gallant Sidney pass, The plume of war! with early laurels crown'd, The lover's myrtle, and the poet's bay. A Hampden too is thine, illustrious land, Wise, strenuous, firm, of unsubmitting soul, Who stemm'd the torrent of a downward age To slavery prone, and bade thee rise again, In all thy native pomp of freedom bold. Bright, at his call, thy age of men effulg'd; Of men on whom late time a kindling eye Shall turn, and tyrants tremble while they read. Bring every sweetest flower, and let me strew The grave where Russell lies; whose temper'd blood, With calmest cheerfulness for thee resign'd, Stain'd the sad annals of a giddy reign-- Aiming at lawless power, though meanly sunk In loose inglorious luxury. With him His friend, the British Cassius, fearless bled; Of high determin'd spirit, roughly brave, By ancient learning to the enlighten'd love Of ancient freedom warm'd. Fair thy renown In awful sages and in noble bards Soon as the light of dawning science spread Her orient ray, and wak'd the muses' song. Thine is a Bacon, hapless in his choice; Unfit to stand the civil storm of state, And through the smooth barbarity of courts, With firm but pliant virtue, forward still To urge his course. Him for the studious shade Kind Nature form'd, deep, comprehensive, clear, Exact, and elegant; in one rich soul,