ODE ON HIS MAJESTY'S BIRTH-DAY,
JUNE 4, 1787.
I.
The noblest bards of Albion's choir
Have struck of old this festal lyre.
Ere Science, struggling oft in vain,
Had dared to break her Gothic chain.
Victorious Edward gave the vernal bough,
Of Britain's bay to bloom on Chaucer's brow:
Fired with the gift, he changed to sounds sublime
His Norman minstrelsy's discordant chime;
In tones majestic hence he told
The banquet of Cambuscan bold;
And oft he sang (howe'er the rhyme
Has moulder'd to the touch of time)
His martial master's knightly board,
And Arthur's ancient rites restored;
The prince in sable steel that sternly frown'd,
And Gallia's captive King, and Cressy's wreath renown'd.
II.
Won from the shepherd's simple meed,
The whispers wild of Mulla's reed,
Sage Spenser wak'd his lofty lay,
To grace Eliza's golden sway;
O'er the proud theme new lustre to diffuse,
He chose the gorgeous allegoric muse,
And call'd to life old Uther's elfin tale,
And rov'd through many a necromantic vale,
Pourtraying chiefs that knew to tame
The goblin's ire, the dragon's flame,
To pierce the dark enchanted hall,
Where Virtue sat in lonely thrall.
From fabling Fancy's inmost store
A rich, romantic robe he bore;
A veil with visionary trappings hung,
And o'er his virgin-queen the fairy texture flung.
III.
At length the matchless Dryden came,
To light the Muses' clearer flame;
To lofty numbers grace to lend,
