To Belgia's coast advert thy ravish'd eyes,
That happy coast, whence all our hopes arise!
Behold the Prince, perhaps thy future king!
From whose green years maturest blessings spring;
Whose youthful arm, when all-o'erwhelming Power
Ruthless march'd forth, his country to devour,
With firm brac'd nerve repell'd the brutal force,
And stopp'd th' unwieldy giant in his course.