ODE TO MERCY. William Collins Alexander Huber Editor Bodleian Libraries, University of Oxford
Broad Street Oxford OX1 3BG UK
Eighteenth-Century Poetry Archive
Taylor Institution Library St Giles' Oxford OX1 3NA UK info@eighteenthcenturypoetry.org https://www.eighteenthcenturypoetry.org/
Oxford This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 Unported License. T116245 1135 K093079.002 Pearch, G. A collection of poems in four volumes. By several hands. Vol. II. [The second edition]. London printed for G. Pearch 1770 pp. 23-24. 4v. ; 8⁰.

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ODE TO MERCY . BY THE SAME . STROPHE . O Thou , who sit'st a smiling bride By Valour's arm'd and awsul side , Gentlest of sky-born forms , and best ador'd : Who oft with songs , divine to hear , Win'st from his fatal grasp the spear , And hid'st in wreaths of flowers his bloodless sword ! Thou who , amidst the deathful field , By godlike chiefs alone beheld , Oft with thy bosom bare art found , Pleading for him the youth who sinks to ground : See , Mercy , see , with pure and loaded hands , Before thy shrine my country's Genius stands , And decks thy altar still , tho' pierc'd with many a wound ! ANTISTROPHE . When he whom even our joys provoke , The Fiend of Nature join'd his yoke , And rush'd in wrath to make our isle his prey ; Thy form , from out thy sweet abode , O'ertook him on his blasted road , And stopp'd his wheels and look'd his rage away . I see recoil his sable steeds , That bore him swift to savage deeds , Thy tender melting eyes they own ; O Maid , for all thy love to Britain shown , Where Justice bars her iron tower , To thee we build a roseate bower , Thou , thou shalt rule our queen , and share our monarch's throne !