The Invasion: A POEM TO THE QUEEN.
By Mr. HILL.
Nil actum est, inquit, nisi,
Gallo milite, Portas
Frangimus, &
Regno vexillum pono
Britanno,
Quantulus at rediit?
Juv. Sat. 10.
LONDON: Printed for THO. BICKERTON at the Golden Flower-de-Luce in St. Paul's Church-Yard. 1708.
The Invasion: A POEM.
PRIDE of the World, permit an humble Muse
To snatch the Theme her Duty bids her choose,
That so the boundless Zeal which now inspires,
And warms my glowing Breast with
Loyal Fires,
May teach my tow'ring Fancy to reherse
Your
Godlike Actions in a lofty Verse:
So shall Your
spreading Laurels never die,
Nor Your bright Deeds in dark
Oblivion lie,
But Ages yet unborn shall learn to bless
The
Author of those Joys
their Children must possess.
Oh! cou'd You see with how sincere a Flame
My Soul expands in Raptures at Your Name!
How
pure my Praise! how
innocent my Song!
My Pray'rs how
ardent! and my Zeal how
strong!
You
wou'd not, cou'd not think Your Virtuous Rays
Produc'd so base a Plant as
mercenary Praise.
No hopes of Gain can stain my
honest Pen,
Nor can I stoop to write like flatt'ring Men;
For tho',
Obscure, 'mongst vulgar Crowds I lie,
Skreen'd from the SUN of Your enliv'ning Eye,
I bear a Loyal Soul, and dare to do
Beyond the Pow'r of Man, to serve a QUEEN like YOU.
But 'tis a needless Art I practise now,
Too low to HEAV'N and YOU we cannot bow;
For Majesty like Yours, and Pow'r Divine,
Whose dazling Rays with spotless Lustre shine,
By
innate Force draw Praise from ev'ry Land,
Nor
can we give You
more than You command;
Envy herself can spy no
doubtful Act,
Nor Malice from your
witness'd Worth detract;
Faction,
disarm'd, submits to what You do,
Nor can the brightest Praise reach
Pow'r to flatter YOU.
Long had
BRITANNIA mourn'd a cloudy Fate,
Depress'd with Fears for her
divided State;
Long had each willing Sister
wish'd in vain,
For Dreams
alternate of the Crown and Chain
Invite 'em oft, oft bear 'em
wide again:
Till Heav'n, indulgent to the doubtful Isle,
Look'd down with Pity, and vouchsaf'd a Smile;
What common Kings had found too hard to do,
Some Pow'r
Coelestial must attempt
anew;
Thence
Jove shot down from Heav'n his brightest Ray,
To animate the purest part of Clay,
From which Great UNION Godlike
ANNA came,
ANNA, the darling Favourite of Fame!
By
Her the wond'rous Task was bravely done,
And the
Coy Nymphs to kind Embraces won;
At
Her Desire Heav'ns mighty Mandates fly,
And firm a
Gordian Knot that Hell can ne'r unty.
In a rough part of
Gallia's Warlike Land,
A craggy Ridge of Rocky Mountains stand,
Whose steep Ascents, and vast
unmeasur'd Height
With pleasing Wonder strike the distant sight;
Their solid sides vast Tracts of Land surround,
And skreen bright Prospects of
Enchanted Ground.
Here, on a gaudy Throne of glitt'ring State,
As Fortune
changeable, but
fix'd as Fate,
With Eagles Wings, and Virgins lovely Face,
Of Form inviting, and unequall'd Grace,
The Fiend
Ambition sits, and shines around the place;
[Page 5]Imperial Crowns of Gold adorn her Head,
From whence, in wanton Curls, her Tresses spread;
Her Hands are elevated as her Look,
One holds a Bloody Sword, and one a Golden Book.
On her Right-hand appears her Sister
Pride,
And crawling
Envy guards the other side;
Of either Sex un-numbred Swarms appear,
And throng in Crowds to pay their Homage here;
On all alike the crafty
Fury smiles,
With equal Art their various Thoughts beguiles,
First draws them on to Fate, then glories in their Spoils.
For round large Hills, o'erspread with shining Light,
With Gold
refulgent, and with Diamonds
bright,
Ten thousand Deaths in strange Disguises stand,
And crush the rash Invaders of that LAND.
Hither the News of
ANNA's Honours came,
The
pond'rous Message burst the Trump of
Fame,
And ev'ry Fiend grew pale, and trembl'd at Her Name.
An awful Silence swiftly follow'd this,
And
Envy's Snakes, with fright, forgot to hiss,
Till from her Throne the shock'd Ambition starts,
And in these Words her fix'd Resolves imparts:
Ha! shall I lose,
at last, my boasted Pow'r?
Long have the Books of Fate foretold this Hour;
Either my Empire falls, or
ANNA bleeds;
But I waste time in
Words, behold my
Deeds,
She said,—and on the Ground her Ensigns threw,
Extended wide her Wings, and upward flew,
And left her Train amaz'd and wondring at the View.
Near the fam'd Borders of the River
Seine,
Whose gentle Streams in large
Maeanders twine,
Whose swelling Floods by fertil Show'rs advance,
And kindly wash the fairest Plains of
France,
Versailles, a small, but stately City, lies,
And rears her lofty Turrets to the Skies;
Proudly she boasts the
Source whence Honours spring,
From the fix'd Residence of
Gallia's King;
For
there that Mighty Monarch's Palace stands,
Guarded by brawny Slaves in chosen Bands.
Here, on a Bed of State, the Tyrant lies,
Pregnant with Hopes to make the World his Prize;
Here different Passions round his Bosom roll,
And various Tortures rack his anxious Soul;
Here conscious Guilt invades his
wish'd Repose,
And magnifies the Number of his Foes;
Now he has mounted the Triumphant Car,
Now sinks beneath the Weight of adverse War;
Here Hopes and Fears
alternate Changes bring,
And
here AMBITION finds her Fav'rite King.
An unexpected Sleep had clos'd his Eyes,
And seiz'd his Senses with a soft Surprize,
When to the place the angry Fury came,
Her Breast all boiling, and her Eyes shot Flame.
Son, says the Fiend, bright Darling of my Care,
Pride of my Hopes, and Subject of my Pray'r,
Rouze from the Damps in which your Senses steep,
'Tis not, oh! 'tis not
Now a time to sleep.
Have I, for
this, your
lost Advantage sought?
For
this your Pow'r with Blood of
Nations bought?
Have I for
this your daring Breast inspir'd,
And with hot Flames of War your Bosom fir'd?
Have your great Stratagems bound
Europe fast?
And must a
Woman break the Chain at last?
Ah Prince!
betimes exert a vig'rous Care,
Betimes for Death or Victory prepare;
For oh! I fear, nay, more than
fear, I
know,
From'
ANNA's Arm you must expect a Blow,
And who opposes
Her has Heav'n to be his Foe.
In vain abroad your dreadful
Cannons roar,
In vain your
Fleets at home defend your Shoar;
In vain your
Armies Foreign Vict'ries gain,
In vain
Almanza gave you conquer'd
Spain;
And, oh! in vain your baffl'd Soldiers fight,
While the two
Barriers of your Pow'r
Unite:
BRITAIN, Great Prince, by Heav'n and
ANNA led,
Has join'd
Two Bodies to
One Sovereign Head;
And if
divided She cou'd shake your Throne,
She may o'erturn it
Now, since into
UNION grown.
[Page 7]Rouze then, and swiftly form some vast Design,
Impending Dangers shou'd Dispatch incline;
Speed gives
Success, by Time 'tis lost or won,
'Tis not 'twas bravely
Thought, but bravely
Done.
I know your Courage
great, I know you
Wise,
And therefore but
remind you, not
advise.
You have a
British Prince attends your Court,
At least a
Prince by His and Our Report;
Contested Titles we dispute in vain,
Kings should not mind the
Justice, but the
Gain.
Strike now; a Wound just clos'd you'll soon renew;
But, if neglected
long, you'll find it hard to do.
She said,—and vanish'd swiftly from his sight,
Lost in the sable Clouds of dusky Night.
The frighted King in furious haste arose,
Forgot the softer thoughts of his Repose;
The Fury's Sting had touch'd his Vital Flood,
And raging Fevers heats enflam'd his Blood.
Revolving Thoughts consum'd the tedious Night,
And Eastern Skies display'd the Morning Light,
When the fierce King a hasty Summons sends,
And each commanded Officer attends;
The wond'ring Council in Confusion met,
By the King's side the young
Pretender sate;
Fires in his Soul a flaming Wrath provoke,
While thus, with sparkling Eyes, the
Gallick Tyrant spoke:
Lords of this Land, where I so long have reign'd,
Whose Loyalty your Courage has maintain'd,
I call'd you hither
now, to let you know
I aim my Arrows at a
British Foe;
Their sudden
UNION has my Hopes betray'd,
We must dissolve the Tye that Knot has made,
Not meanly
guard our own, but Hostile Shoars
invade.
And
You, young Prince, whose too unhappy Fate
Has cast you roughly from your Father's State,
Shall have my Help to lift you to a Throne
That justly is,
or ought to be, your own:
It then remains, You shou'd the Dangers weigh
That may a while defer the happy Day;
To guide you safely through the vast Design;
The
Gallick Fleet shall shake the
British Shoar
With Force they never felt nor fear'd before;
My best Commanders shall attend your Fate,
And
chosen Troops support your
Kingly State.
This is my
Will, your
Answer I expect,
I have propos'd the
Task, and will the
Deed effect.
A rising Murmur from the buzzing Croud
Proclaim'd their Wonder and their Pleasure loud,
While the
Pretender spoke, and as he spoke he bow'd.
Illustrious Prince, from whom my Fortune springs,
Great Dread of
Nations, and great Chief of
Kings,
Words want the Pow'r to speak my rising Joy,
Nor can my Tongue vain
Eloquence employ;
Give me my
Crown, and its
Command shall shew
How much to
Your great Soul I and my Subjects owe.
Green in the Field,
unus'd to Wars Alarms,
Soldier in
bloom, and yet
unskill'd in Arms,
I'll bravely lead your conqu'ring
Squadrons on,
And wade through Seas of
Blood to reach my Throne;
Nor fear I
Dangers, nor can doubt
Success,
Hell cannot
curse the Man whom
You vouchsafe to
bless.
He spoke,—The smiling King the Speech commends,
And sudden
Orders o'er his Kingdom sends,
Surpris'd, the Council rose, and the great
Congress ends.
Now from all parts the Din of War grows high,
And
Trumpets sound their
Summons to the Sky;
Tonitruous
Drums in rougher Notes proclaim
The
Soldiers Bus'ness, and their
Leaders Aim:
Arms long neglected, now begin to
shine,
And
neighing Horses
snort a Great Design;
The Warlike
Ensigns that the Chiefs prepare,
In pendant
Curlings fan the wanton Air;
Love's softer Arts no more amuse the Swains,
And Nymphs are left abandon'd in the
Plains;
To
War's great Call Troops of bold Youths advance,
The
Pride of Valour, and the
Bloom of
France;
[Page 9]With sprightly Joy they hear the loud Alarms,
Forget their
softer Dress, and shine in glitt'ring
Arms:
To
Dunkirk's Port with hasty Zeal they fly,
Where ready Ships of
War in graceful Order lie.
And now the fatal Morn' began to peep,
When the strong Fleet must plough the Stormy Deep;
In the gay
Town the chosen Army lay,
And with loud Shouts salute the welcome Day.
The tuneful Trumpets echo from afar,
With all the noisie Instruments of
War;
The summon'd
Chiefs to their fix'd places flew,
And into Order all their Forces drew;
The tops of Houses Crouds of Gazers heap,
And from the Windows
Wives and
Mothers weep;
With wringing hands a last Farewell they take,
And wish the War Success,
each for her Husband's sake.
In the broad
Front, with an unequall'd Pride,
They saw the rash
Pretender boldly ride,
Grac'd by the
Warlike Chiefs who rode on either side.
Twice Fifty gallant Troops march slowly on,
Whose Swords in frequent
Wars had Vict'ries won;
With graceful
Pride their tall Commanders tread,
And feather'd Plumes adorn each
elevated Head;
Their sloping Spears shine thro' the City-gate,
And others bear for
Arms the fiery Tubes of Fate.
Thus march the haughty Train in pompous State,
To gain the Strand, where ready Vessels wait;
A tempting
Gale invites 'em soon aboard,
And from the
Port their hasty Ships unmoor'd;
Saluting Cannons from the Bulwarks roar,
And the Fleets
Thunder shakes the Friendly Shoar.
And
now the formidable Ships of
France
From their strong Port to the wide Seas advance;
Their tallow'd Keels divide the rolling Waves,
And their smooth sides the rising Ocean laves;
The skilful Mariners unfurl their Sails,
Whose flutt'ring Canvass courts the swelling Gales;
The manag'd Rudders break the Billows pow'r,
And make 'em
guide what they wou'd else
devour:
[Page 10]To dreadful breadth the bulky Squadrons spread,
Afrighted
Neptune hides his hoary Head,
And the
Sea-Monsters fly, struck with a pannnick Dread.
To
Caledonian Land their Course they bend,
And on her Coast their threatning Pow'rs descend:
The craggy Rocks, that guard the
Northern Shoar,
Trembl'd and shook at their loud Thunders roar,
And loos'n'd from their Roots, that never mov'd before.
But hold, my Muse;—Forget thy Foes a while,
And turn a pleasing look to
BRITAIN's Isle,
On whose bless'd Fortunes Heav'n and
ANNA smile.
Soon had the watchful Eyes of PROVIDENCE,
That ever wake and move for Her Defence,
Perceiv'd the black Design, their Forces seen,
And told their
Numbers to the happy QUEEN:
The
Loyal Senate flame with gen'rous Fire,
And
their Examples ev'ry Breast inspire;
At the first Summons Crouds unnumber'd meet,
And throw their
Lives and
Fortunes at Her Feet.
Two
British Fleets then plough'd the distant Main,
One bore her
Natives to the Coast of
Spain,
Others in
Midland Seas Vict'ries on Vict'ries gain.
Mean while Domestick Shoars unguarded lie,
No equal Force to meet the Foe was nigh;
But
ANNA needs not
that, for Heav'n is Her ALLIE.
Yet at Her Call tall Ships in Numbers meet,
And form, with wond'rous haste, a Mighty Fleet;
O'er the rough Seas commanded Squadrons fly,
In their swift way no
dang'rous Barriers lie,
From
Her they claim their
Force, their
Fortune from the
Sky.
Now the
brave Britons, whom the Seas obey,
O'er moving Mountains force their watry Way,
Their
crowded Sails leave
loit'ring Birds behind,
And their stretch'd Breadth
monopolize the Wind.
Eager to fight, their Ships for
War prepare,
Fly thro' the
Seas, and sail upon the
Air;
Each lab'ring Hull the wond'ring Waves divides,
And shakes the frighted Billows from her sides;
Their bending Masts yield to the pow'rful Gales,
And groaning Beams below proclaim the pond'rous Sails.
When from their Watch the Fleets each other spy,
With equal Joy contiguous Sails they ply,
And look like two black
Clouds gath'ring from either
Sky.
Each to just length contract their spreading Line,
And glitt'ring Weapons from their Rigging shine;
Death, here invited, leaves the peaceful Shoar,
And lies conceal'd in ev'ry Cannon's Bore,
Tempting their
fiery Rage, and courting them to roar.
Britannia's Sons with chearful Shouts come nigh,
And their loud Triumphs pierce the vaulted Sky;
On the high Decks the graceful Chiefs appear,
Invite the Battle, and disdain to fear;
Their sprightly Trumpets loud Defiance sound,
And wond'ring Fishes dance in Shoals around;
With gentle force the Southern Breezes blow,
And bear their dreadful Thunder on the Foe.
But when the bold
Pretender saw their Pow'r,
And felt their Anger in a Sulph'rous Show'r,
His
gifted Sword forsook his trembling Hand,
And his roll'd Eyes survey'd the distant Land,
His fault'ring Tongue forgot a while to speak,
And knocking Knees with sudden shocks grow weak;
Strangely surpriz'd his anxious Thoughts appear,
And drowns his Senses in the Gulph of Fear.
Thus, when the Noble Lion
sleeping lies,
Nor dreads the Danger of a base
Surprize,
Some envious Fox, who fears an
open Strife,
With
treach'rous Guile attempts his
Royal Life;
But when He's
seiz'd, and in vindictive Claws,
Quakes with a guilty Fear, beneath the grasping Paws.
Now the rash
Gallick Chiefs amaz'd look'd round,
No Hopes of Safety but by Flight they found,
With heedless haste they clap their
Helms a-lee,
And raise a short-liv'd Storm, by
breaking up the Sea;
No more the Ships in their first Order join,
Confusion now divides the scatter'd Line,
O'er the wide
Ocean spread, they lose their State,
And fly
disorder'd from pursuing Fate;
[Page 12]They crowd more Sail than Rigging can supply,
Grasp all the Winds that whizz along the Sky,
And
court the Tempests they were us'd to
fly:
O'erloaden Vessels crack beneath their weight,
And ev'ry Plank gapes wide, and opens Death a Gate:
Close to the Waves they lay their prostrate sides,
The chalky
Keel high o'er the Surges rides,
And their swift
Prows raise Foam upon the
murm'ring Tides.
The wond'ring
Britons view their sudden Flight,
And bless with shouts the unexpected sight;
With
equal haste, by
diff'rent Causes led,
To
equal breadth their
Conqu'ring Squadrons spread;
Well-manag'd Sails their stately Line extend,
And their stiff Masts to the strong Canvass bend;
Swiftly they scud along the wat'ry Plain,
And by degrees a short Advantage gain,
Then tempt their Rivals to dispute the Day,
And with loud Cannons summon them to stay:
From their tall sides a gen'rous Thunder roars,
Echoing Defiance to the distant Shoars,
While from the
Gallick Sterns base Bullets fly,
And Clouds of
shameful Smoak invade the blushing Sky.
In vain th'intrepid
Britains tempt the Fight,
In vain they strive to stop their eager Flight,
In vain to animate their Foes they try,
Beckon the Dangers Nature bids 'em fly,
And court the bloody Blows which
Heav'n and
France deny.
Long had their Ships,
divided, urg'd their way,
And grac'd the Seas that did their Pow'r obey,
When a brave
Few, more happy than the rest,
With
greater Speed, but
equal Courage bless'd,
O'ertake the hindmost of the Hostile Fleet,
And with
unwelcome Shouts their pow'rful Rivals greet.
From each side
now successive Thunder flies,
On the rough Waves contending Vessels rise,
Alternate Show'rs of Death blue Sulphur rain,
Oceans of Blood the wat'ry Surface stain,
And spread their purple Horror o'er the Main.
[Page 13]
Britannia's Sons with brave Resentment flame,
Gallia must now support her sinking Fame,
One side for
Honour fights, and one for
Shame.
Hot Wombs of
Brass new Births of
Fire prepare,
Thunder on Thunder shakes the smoaky Air,
Sulphureous Clouds in curling Volumes rise,
And Nitrous Gloom obscures the ambient Skies,
Till dreadful Lightning flashing thro' the Night,
Discloses horrid Scenes with momentary Light.
Promiscuously the Ships in Battle join,
Observe no Order, keep no formal Line,
But strive by diff'rent Arts, to compass one Design;
With deadly Force
Here adverse Bullets meet,
And with rough Shocks, and
breaking Fury greet,
Here rising Waves the meeting Vessels dash,
And join their bulky Sides with hideous Crash;
Now
grapling Sailors Hand to Hand contend,
Some desp'rately assail what some defend;
Here Sword from Sword with fearful Noise rebounds,
Here weighty Fauchions fix their dreadful Wounds,
Here by destructive Musquets Crowds expire,
And
adverse Parties fight in Storms of Fire;
Three Elements in strange Disorder join,
In vain the
strugling Flames attempt to shine,
Thro'
rising Surges red-hot Bullets fly,
And dash the
hissing Waters to the Sky;
With
unresisted Force they onward roar,
Disjoin the Ships that
closely fought before,
And shake the
troubled Seas, and drive 'em to the Shoar.
Now was the Time BRITANNIA shou'd advance
Her deathless Glories on the Fall of
France,
Sing, Loyal
Muse, by what strange turn of Fate
The faithless
Foe preserv'd his sinking State;
Say by what means
Jove's Favour was obtain'd,
And how, by him secur'd, they
Dunkirk's Port regain'd.
Shock'd at the
growing Thunder of the Fight,
And eager to behold the bloody Sight,
Imperial
Jove descends, enthron'd on
Clouds,
And
Heav'n's bright Host attends in
shining Crouds;
[Page 14]At his Command the strengthen'd Air supports
The num'rous
Rulers of Celestial Courts,
Who, stretch'd at wanton Ease,
observant lye,
And frame a glorious
Heav'n below the Sky.
Not far from hence, amidst th'unfathom'd Sea,
There stands a
Rock, strong in a vast degree,
Its
tow'ring sides the roughest Storms out-brave,
And mock the Fury of the
fiercest Wave,
High on its craggy
Top old
Neptune stood,
Lord of the
Regions of the briny Flood;
Around his Head a
whistling Tempest blew,
And his long Hair high from his Temples flew,
His
rais'd Right Hand his powerful
Trident shook,
And the loud
Ocean trembled at his Look.
Soon as he saw the
thund'ring God descend,
And fear'd the Consequence that might attend,
He rais'd his dreadful Voice, and thus began,
While the
hush'd Seas in
awful silence ran.
Brother, whose happier Fate has plac'd you high,
And fix'd you
Ruler of the starry Sky,
Welcome, oh
welcome, for you come in time,
To see me punish an unequal'd Crime:
ANNA the
Great, the
Just, of matchless Worth,
Whom
Fate decrees the Empress of the Earth,
Urg'd by the pious Flames of
mutual Love,
And such as almost equals yours above,
Gives the Command of the subjected
Main
To her blest
Consort GEORGE the
Royal DANE;
Long has that happy PRINCE successful been,
And Rul'd the
Navies of his Darling QUEEN,
Till o'er the wond'ring World
He spread Her
Fame,
And distant
Nations trembled at her Name;
My self with Pleasure all my Pow'r resign'd,
Gave
Him a full Command o'er
Seas and
Wind,
For I submitted
still to all that She design'd.
Yet
Now, O daring Insolence! this Foe,
Whose wide
Ambition injur'd Nations know,
At her
lov'd Breast has aim'd a
treach'rous Blow;
But
see the conqu'ring
British Fleet advance,
Whose dreadful Cannons bear the Fate of
France.
He said,—and as he wou'd have spoken more,
Jove cast his Eyes upon the
Gallick Shoar,
Henceforth, he cry'd,
Rash Prince, more humble grow,
Nor tempt the Anger of your
British Foe:
Fate
now protects you, if again you dare
Invade that Land, a bloody Fall beware.
This said,—a dusky Cloud he
downwards threw,
And Scenes of
Darkness 'twixt the
Navies drew,
Then smil'd in
Neptune's Face, and
upwards flew.
The furious
God with Wonder view'd the Deed,
And curs'd the Safety
Jove to
France decreed;
He bent his stormy Brow against the Skies,
Amazing Fires flash'd swiftly from his Eyes,
And mad with raging
Passion, loudly cryes,
Hah! dares he thus invade a Brother's Right?
Tho' I can ne'er repel his
New-fram'd Night,
I'll curse with equal
Plagues their shameful Flight.
He said,—and made his willing
Tritons meet,
To guard from gath'ring Storms the
British Fleet,
Then with his
Trident struck the hollow Rock,
That three times trembled with the mighty shock,
Thence issued
Boreas with impetuous roar,
And shook the
boyst'rous Seas from Shoar to Shoar,
Successive
Waves in wat'ry Hills rise
steep,
Disclosing all the
Horrors of the Deep,
Commission'd Billows o'er each other roul,
And
frightful Prospects shock the bravest Soul.
The
Gallick Fleet the
Tempest soon o'ertakes,
And on their Ships with dreadful Horror breaks;
Now with strange Force the swelling Surges rise,
And lift the mounting Vessels to the Skies,
Then from their
Keels the
faithless Waters fall,
And to the muddy
Bottom drop 'em all.
The trembling
Sailors ply their Ropes in vain,
And gaping Planks admit the roaring Main,
[Page 16]Their shatter'd Sails in num'rous pieces fly,
And Tempests blow their
Streamers to the Sky,
Disjointed Rudders float upon the Waves,
And groaning Numbers sink in wat'ry Graves,
Disabled Vessels
meet with sudden Shocks,
And some are dash'd with force upon the Rocks,
Some shrieking
Mariners midst Waves Expire,
Some dye by strange
Diseases, some by Fire,
Death in all Shapes, and horrid Pomp appears,
And
growing Dangers swell beyond their Fears,
Plague, Wind and
Sea 'gainst perjur'd
France combine,
And in her Ruin firm Confed'rates join,
Till
long-deserv'd Fatigues and Hazards o'er,
A
scatter'd Remnant gain their native Shore.
Such Fate may
ANNA's Foes for ever find,
May HEAV'N on Her still smile, nor
Hell disturb Her Mind.
FINIS.