Page:Poetical Works of the Right Hon. Geo. Granville.djvu/87

Rh kings dethron’d, and blood of brethren ſpilt, In vain, O Britain! you ’d avert the guilt, Is crimes which your forefathers bluſh’d to own, Repeated, call for heavier vengeance down.
 * Tremble, ye People! who your kings diſtreſs;

Tremble, ye Kings! for people you oppreſs: Th’ Eternal ſees, arm’d with his forky rods. The riſe and fall of empire ’s from the gods. thou art, thy lord and maſter ſee; Thou waſt my ſlave, thou art, or thou ſhalt be. , and I ’ll frankly own her name, Whoſe eyes have kindled ſuch a flame; The Spartan or the Cyprian queen Had ne’er been ſung had ſhe been ſeen: Who ſet the very gods at war Were but faint images of her. Believe me, for by Heav’ns ’t is true! The ſun in all his ample view