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44 While these thy breast with scorne indignant fird, What other views before thee would disclose! As Fancy painted and thy wish inspird, What glorious scenes beneath thy shades arose! Britannias guardians here dispell her woes, Forming her laws, her artes, with godlike toil; There Albion, smyling on their learnd repose, Sees manly Genius in their influence smile, And spread the hallowd streames of Virtue round the ile.

How blest, ah Heaven! such selfe-approving houres, Such views still opening, still extending higher, Cares whence the state derives its firmest powres, And scenes where Friendship sheds her purest fire! And did, ah shame! these hopes in vain expire A morning dreame!—As lorn the spendthrift stands, Who sees the fieldes bequeathed him by his sire, His own no more, now reapt by strangers hands; So languid must I view faire Honours fertile lands.