From James and Rome I feel my heart decline,
And fear, O Brunswick, 'twill be wholly thine;
Yet still his share thy rival will contest,
And still the double claim divides my breast:
The fate of James with pitying eyes I view,
And wish my homage were not Brunswick's due;
To James my passions and my weakness guide,
But reason sways me to the victor's side.
Though griev'd I speak it, let the truth appear;
(You know my language, and my heart, sincere.)
In vain did falshood his fair fame disgrace;
What force had falshood, when he show'd his face!
In vain to war our boastful clans were led;
Heaps driven on heaps, in the dire shock they fled:
France shuns his wrath, nor raises to our shame
A second Dunkirk in another name:
In Britain's funds their wealth all Europe throws,
And up the Thames the world's abundance flows:
Spite of feign'd fears, and artificial cries,
The pious town sees fifty churches rise:
The hero triumphs as his worth is known,
And sits more firmly on his shaken throne.