But so may he live long, that town to sway, Which by his auspice they will nobler make, As he will hatch their ashes by his stay, And not their humble ruins now forsake.[194] 289. They have not lost their loyalty by fire; Nor is their courage or their wealth so low, That from his wars they poorly would retire, Or beg the pity of a vanquished foe. 290. Not with more constancy the Jews, of old, By Cyrus from rewarded exile sent, Their royal city did in dust behold, Or with more vigour to rebuild it went.[195] 291. The utmost malice of the stars is past, And two dire comets, which have scourged the town, In their own plague and fire have breathed their last, Or dimly in their sinking sockets frown. 292. Now frequent trines the happier lights among, And high-raised Jove, from his dark prison freed, Those weights took off that on his planet hung, Will gloriously the new-laid works succeed.[196] 293. Methinks already from this chemic flame, I see a city of more precious mould; Rich as the town[197] which gives the Indies name, With silver paved, and all divine with gold. 294. Already labouring with a mighty fate, She shakes the rubbish from her mountain brow, And seems to have renewed her charter's date, Which heaven will to the death of time allow. 295. More great than human now, and more august,[198] Now deified she from her fires does rise; Her widening streets on new foundations trust, And opening into larger parts she flies.[199] 296. Before, she like some shepherdess did show, Who sat to bathe her by a river's side; Not answering to her fame, but rude and low, Nor taught the beauteous arts of modern pride. 297. Now, like a maiden queen, she will behold, From her high turrets, hourly suitors come; The East with incense, and the West with gold, Will stand like suppliants to receive her doom. 298. The silver Thames, her own domestic flood, Shall bear her vessels like a sweeping train; And often wind, as of his mistress proud, With longing eyes to meet her face again. 299. The wealthy Tagus, and the wealthier Rhine, The glory of their towns no more shall boast; And Seyne, that would with Belgian rivers join,[200] Shall find her lustre stained, and traffic lost. 300. The venturous merchant, who designed more far, And touches on our hospitable shore, Charmed with the splendour of this northern star, Shall here unlade him, and depart no more. 301. Our powerful navy shall no longer meet, The wealth of France or Holland to invade; The beauty of this town, without a fleet, From all the world shall vindicate her trade. 302.