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or all those joys thy restoration brought,For all the miracles it wrought,For all the healing balm thy mercy pouredInto the nation's bleeding wound,[55]And care, that after kept it sound,For numerous blessings yearly showered,And property with plenty crowned;For freedom, still maintained alive,Freedom, which in no other land will thrive,Freedom, an English subject's sole prerogative,Without whose charms, even peace would beBut a dull quiet slavery;--For these, and more, accept our pious praise;'Tis all the subsidyThe present age can raise,The rest is charged on late posterity.Posterity is charged the more,Because the large abounding storeTo them, and to their heirs, is still entailed by thee.Succession of a long descent,Which chastely in the channels ran,And from our demi-gods began,Equal almost to time in its extent,Through hazards numberless and great,Thou hast derived this mighty blessing down,And fixed the fairest gem that decks the imperial crown:Not faction, when it shook thy regal seat,Not senates, insolently loud,Those echoes of a thoughtless crowd,Not foreign or domestic treachery,Could warp thy soul to their unjust decree.So much thy foes thy manly mind mistook,Who judged it by the mildness of thy look;Like a well-tempered sword, it bent at will,But kept the native toughness of the steel.
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