HIS DESCENDANTS

When thy great soul was freed from mortal chains,

Darling of England! many a bitter shower

Fell on thy tomb; but emulative power

Flowed in thy line through undegenerate veins.

The Race of Alfred covetglorious pains

When dangers threaten, dangers ever new!

Black tempests bursting, blacker still in view!

But manly sovereignty its hold retains;

The root sincere, the branches bold to strive

With the fierce tempest, while,within the round

Of their protection, gentle virtues thrive;

As oft,‘ mid some green plot of open ground,

Wide as the oak extends its dewy gloom,

The fostered hyacinths spread their purple bloom.