And half her worthies of the Norman line,
And quit the honour of their births to be ensured to thine!
How justly might it the wise choice approve,
Prouder in this than Crete to have brought forth Almighty Jove!
6
Who strive by thy great model monuments to rear;
In vain for worthless fame we toil,
Who're pent in the straight limits of a narrow isle;
In vain our force and art we spend
With noble labours to enrich our land,
Which none beyond our shores vouchsafe to understand.
Be the fair structure ne'er so well designed,
The parts with ne'er so much proportion joined,
Yet foreign bards (such is their pride or prejudice)
All the choice workmanship for the materials’ sake despise.
But happier thou thy genius didst dispense
In language universal as thy sense;
All the rich bullion which thy sovereign stamp does wear,
On every coast of wit does equal value bear,
Allowed by all, and current everywhere.
No nation yet has been so barbarous found,
Where thy transcendent worth was not renowned.
Throughout the world thou art with wonder read,
Wherever learning does its commerce spread,
Wherever fame with all her tongues can speak,
Wherever the bright god of wit does his vast journeys take.
7
Which fate ordained to be thy glorious theme:
What greater gift could bounteous Heaven bestow
On its chief favourite below?
What nobler trophy could his high deserts befit,
Than these thy vast erected pyramids of wit?
