1802 8

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1802.8
Song
The Pilot that Moor'd Us in Peace
Anon
The Gentleman's Magazine, LXXII (August 1802), pp. 756-757
The Monthly Mirror, XIII (June 1802), pp. 419-420

If we honour the pilot that weather'd the storm,
And ne'er can our justice and gratitude cease,
Shall the sight of the harbour our hearts fail to warm?
No—here's to the pilot that moor'd us in peace!

For the chance of new warfare Ambition may sigh,
And Party hostilities strive to renew;
To Wisdom, that nation to nation could tie,
The blessings of Europe are honestly due.

And shall not his merits then Britons revere,
Who went to the helm, at his Sovereign's command—
A Pilot who prov'd he could steadily steer,
And the vessel secure from the storm and the strand?

Who, when gloom and dejection hung over the State,
As the ORB THAT PRESERV'D US its radiance withdrew,
Brought the ship into port, through the perils of fate,
Unsully'd her flag, and in safety her crew.

Exulting, impetuous, on Glory we gaze,
And, caught by War's triumphs, scarce think of its woes;
But the pause of Reflection its horrors displays,
And the heart of humanity pants for repose.

So, ADDINGTON,[1] proudly as Britons we burn,
On viewing the laurels by Conquest assign'd,
But with nobler delight to thy olive we turn,
As the symbol of happiness shar'd by mankind.

O take then—for honour with spirit maintain'd;
For counsels, by judgment and prudence matur'd:
O take, for the peace which thy wisdom has gain'd,
The thanks of an empire whose rights are secur'd!

And O! if the value of concord we prize,
And with that the blessings of life may increase;
The respect of the good, and the praise of the wise,
Will point to the Pilot that moor'd us in Peace!