There a young hero, here a royal maid: Fair England’s genius in the youth exprest, Her ancient foe, but now her friend confest, The warlike nymph with fond regard surveyed; No more his hostile frown her heart dismayed: His look, that once shot terror from afar, Like young Alcides, or the god of war, Serene as summer’s evening skies she saw; Serene, yet firm; though mild, impressing awe: Her nervous arm, inured to toils severe, Brandished th’ unconquered Caledonian spear: The dreadful falchion of the hills she wore, } Sung to the harp in many a tale of yore, } That oft her rivers dyed with hostile gore. } Blue was her rocky shield; her piercing eye Flashed like the meteors of her native sky; Her crest, high-plumed, was rough with many a scar, And o’er her helmet gleamed the northern star. The warrior youth appeared of noble frame, The hardy offspring of some rustic dame: Loose o’er his shoulders hung the slackened bow, Renowned in song, the terror of the foe! The sword that oft the barbarous North defy’d, The scourge of tyrants! glittered by his side: Clad in refulgent arms in battle won, The George emblazoned on his corselet shone; Fast by his side was seen a golden lyre, Pregnant with numbers of eternal fire; Whose strings unlock the witches’ midnight spell, Or waft rapt fancy through the gulphs of hell: Struck with contagion, kindling fancy hears The songs of heaven, the music of the spheres! Borne on Newtonian wing through air she flies, Where other suns to other systems rise. These front the scene conspicuous; overhead Albion’s proud oak his filial branches spread: While on the sea-beat shore obsequious stood, Beneath their feet, the father of the flood: Here, the bold native of her cliffs above, Perched by the martial maid the bird of Jove; There, on the watch, sagacious of his prey, With eyes of fire, an English mastiff lay; Yonder fair Commerce stretched her winged sail, Here, frowned the god that wakes the living gale. High o’er the poop, the flattering winds unfurled Th’ imperial flag that rules the watery world. Deep blushing _Armors_ all the tops invest, And warlike trophies either quarter drest: Then towered the masts, the canvass swelled on high, And waving streamers floated in the sky. Thus the rich vessel moves in trim array, Like some fair virgin on her bridal day; Thus, like a swan, she cleaved the watery plain, The pride and wonder of th’ Ægean main. END OF THE FIRST CANTO. SECOND CANTO: THE SCENE LIES AT SEA, BETWEEN CAPE FRESCHIN, IN CANDIA, AND THE ISLAND OF FALCONERA, WHICH IS NEARLY TWELVE LEAGUES NORTHWARD OF CAPE SPADO. TIME,—FROM NINE IN THE MORNING UNTIL ONE O’CLOCK OF THE NEXT DAY AT NOON. ARGUMENT.