Should Nature's simple beauties fail,
And Art's gay structures more prevail,
Here too the polish'd dome is plac'd,
With each Vitruvian beauty grac'd:
Or wouldst thou at the early dawn
Transport thee to the dew-clad lawn;
Or from the mid-day fervor rove
Beneath the silent plantane grove:
Or with the fairy elves be seen
In dances on the level green:
Should baleful War, 'mid loud alarms,
'Mid vanquish'd foes, and conquering arms,
'Mid hosts o'erthrown, and myriads slain,
On Britain fix his iron reign;
Should Jove's fair daughter, oliv'd Peace,
Bid the wild battle's tumult cease;
In polish'd ease you still shall share
Thy kind protector's fostering care;
His faithful love shall still appear,
His friendly aid shall still be near,
His constant, his unweary'd power
Shall lull thee in the balmy bower;
Shall watch thee o'er the dewy glade,
And guard thee from the midnight shade.