φοβερὴν ὀπίσω

πολέμου νεφελὰν κατέχευαν.

Μοῦσα δ' ὑμῖν, κλεινοὶ βασιλεῖς !

συμπλέκει καλλίνικον στέφανον,
οἱ δόξας ἄωτον

ἀπεδρέψατ ̓ ἐς ἀεὶ, φυλάξαντες

γλυκυτάταν ἐλευθερίαν,

ἀρετῆς τε συμμαχία καλλίστα

πελώριον τελέσαντες ἔργον.

Spoken by the Hon. G. J. W. Ellis, of Christ Church.

OXFORD, exult!—behold the period come, When conquering Kings adorn this classic dome: Oxford, raise high thy head, and gladly pay The homage due on this thy festal day.

Oft hast thou here adjudg'd the Poet's meed To valiant action, and to virtuous deed: Here oft have Warriors gloried in thy praise, And Statesmen here enjoy'd unfading bays. But not since first our Alfred's star appear'd, And thro' the mists its morning splendour rear'd, Has ever yet on Isis' favour'd stream

Yon flaming orb diffus'd so bright a beam.

For now to thee, great Prince, her vows sincere
Thy Oxford pays, and bids thee welcome here.

G

Long may'st thou live on peaceful arts to smile,
And long a Brunswick rule fair Albion's Isle.

Yes! We have heard, by hostile tumult torn Through all her states, desponding Europe mourn. Yet Hope, sweet seraph, sooth'd her anxious breast, And lull'd her thus to visionary rest.

"Lo! where mid northern blasts yon flags unfurl'd "Advance to renovate a prostrate world.

"See! how in crowds their dauntless legions frown; "See! how they pour like mountain torrents down. "Hark! where on Gaul's own plains their shouts declare "That God presides, the just avenger there." And was indeed the pleasing vision true? Did Fancy then a real prospect view?

Yes! then she saw the kindred eagles soar

From vast Siberia's bounds to Biscay's shore.

Down, Despot, down: the mighty task is done;
Thy iron sceptre falls; thy course is run.
And deem'dst thou not of this, mid northern snows,
When shrieks of death from all thy ranks arose?
Mark'dst thou not well from off the Kremlin's height,

When lurid brightness scared the eye of night,

How Justice then prepar'd thy deeds to weigh,

And Vengeance prophesied of Leipzic's day?

And that dread day did come. Throw off the chains

From captive Kings: again a Louis reigns.

Again to Gaul are golden times restor'd,

And willing thousands greet their rightful Lord.

Speak, Europe, rescued from the whelming flood,
Had polar winters chill'd yon Emperor's blood?
Had FREDERICK'S converse with the tented field
His breast 'gainst Mercy's gentle influence steel'd?
No-by fair Gallia's still unravag'd plains,
Her towns unsack'd, her unpolluted fanes,
By all her merchant wealth, and artist pride,
From Seine's tall towers to Garonne's viny side,
By her fall'n tyrant's shew of princely state,
His limbs unchain'd, his life inviolate,

By these, far lands and distant times shall know,
"How Christian valour spares the prostrate foe."

Still not to you, Great Chiefs, though high your praise Transcend the Historian's pen, or Poet's lays;

Yet not to you alone shall mortals bow

In awful love, and pay the grateful vow;

But ye yourselves must bow, your praise be given,

To him the LORD of Lords, your King in heaven.

Spoken by H. Bosanquet, Gent. Com. of Corpus Christi College.

COMPOSITIS jam tandem armis dum tota quiescit

Europa, et justi agnoscens moderaminis usum,

Vos tanti auctores, illustria nomina, doni

Grata colit, cingitque æterna tempora lauro;

Nos itidem Musarum artes atque otia doctæ
Pallados hic miti pacis servare sub umbra
Assoliti, his ultro vocemque animumque triumphis
Addimus, hospitibusque novis lætamur ovantes;
Nec minus interea patriæ patriique movetur
Imperii cura, neque te tua, maxime Princeps,
Gratari dubitat Rhedycina, et amore fideli
Excipit, et tanto felix se Præside jactat.
Auspice te, placidam carpit secura quietem
Pieridum sedes: tu namque exempla paterna
Rite colens, nostras ultro dignaris Athenas
Præsidio tegere, et donis cumulare benignis:
Scilicet omne tuum est, prisca quod ab Herculis urbe

Eruta Niliaci pretiosa volumina Bybli

Tandem insperatæ donari munere lucis

Vidimus, et Sophiæ hæc intra sacraria condi.
Nec minus interea studia in quæcunque vocetur
Vitæ altrix artisque parens, Te, Dia Mathesis,
Suspicit, et facilem veneratur læta Patronum.
Illa adeo, seu, quæ magno lex imperet orbi,
Edoceat, viresque ac pondera materiaï,
Seu quibus acta modis coeant, iterumque figuras
Dissiliant habitura novas vaga semina rerum,
Seu terræ scrutetur opes, quæ cæca metalli
Semina, quas gremio sparsim ferat ubere gemmas,
Illa sibi tantis præstari debita cœptis

Otia, subsidiumque tuo de munere jactat.
Ergo consiliis stabilita armisque suorum

Dum regina viget Brittannia, pacis amorem

Dum colit, et Phoebo doctum vacat Isidos agmen,
Hæc tibi perpetuæ stabunt præconia famæ

Victoris titulo, et belli potiora tropæis.

Spoken by Lord Clifton, of Christ Church.

OH, for a son of bright-eyed glory,

That sweeping o'er the chorded shell
Should in sublimest numbers tell

The patriot hero's deathless story.
Oh, for a soul, that loved to ride
The battle's most tempestuous tide,
And thought the tumult of the fight
Most sweet to ear, and beautiful to sight.
If here thy glorious race began,
And Oxford fashion'd thee so well,

Up to the perfect man ;

Spirit of air, obey the spell.

Oh, from the realms of day
Waft hither some immortal lay.
On thee thy Holy Mother calls,
Bid every note of rapture swell

To those that grace her honour'd walls.
For these are they, who, leagued in holy tie,
Self dedicate to Liberty,

Her banner bright unfurl'd:
Hope could not lead astray,
Fear might not bar their way;