Classic Poem

I.

Mighty hero! born to be
Heaven's delight and Europe's wonder;
Born for easy victory,
Born to trample tyrants under!

II.

How the pressing trophies crowd,
To adorn your triumphs round!
Fame the while your praise aloud
To th' amazed world does sound.

III.

You our guardian angel are,
Deckt with ambient rays of light;
And Ignatian furies scare,
By the terror of your sight.

IV.

As the Persians to adore
Haste to meet the rising sun;
So to reach the western shore
Did our willing nobles run.

V.

You the patron there they meet,
Of the best and noblest cause;
You the true defender greet,
Of our faith, our lives, and laws.

VI.

In true honor's sphere you move,
What's right and good, count great and high;
Prudence and strict virtue prove
Your rule to measure glory by.

VII.

Just and generous your design,
To support a falling state;
Therefore have the powers divine
Smil'd upon your arms of late.

VIII.

Welcome arms! that are not brought,
For our ruin, but our good:
Welcome peace! that is not bought
With the costly price of blood.

IX.

Happy victory! design'd
T' heal a bleeding kingdom's veins:
Happy triumph! not to bind,
But to set us free from chains.

X.

Ready too to fall away,
France, methinks, does yielding stand
To commit her scepter's sway
To your juster, milder hand.

XI.

Vast exploits that you have done,
Make her haughty tyrant bow;
And the lawrels he has won,
Wait to grace your nobler brow.

XII.

Mighty hero! may your glory
To its full meridian climb;
And remain, in deathless story,
The pride and wonder of our time.