The man of reason is a god Who scorns to stoop to fortune's nod ; Sole agent he beneath the shining sphere, Others are passive, are impell'd, Are frighten'd, flatter'd, sunk, or swell'd, As accident is pleas'd to domineer. Our hopes and fears are much to blame; Elude the dart, dissolve the charm, The present object, present day, Life, fame, friends, freedom, empire, all, How foreign these, though most in view! How great the toil! 'Twill cost more pains, To vanquish folly, than reduce a state. Hence, Reason! the first palm is thine, Old Britain learnt from thee to shine. [smile, By thee, trade's swarming throng, gay freedom's Armies, in war of fatal frown, Of peace the pride, arts flowing down, Enrich, exalt, defend, instruct our isle. STRAIN THE SECOND. THE ARGUMENT. Arts from commerce. Why Britons should pursue it. What wealth includes. An historical digression which kind is most frequent in Pindar. The wealth and wonderful glory of Tyre, The approach of her ruin. The cause of it. Her crimes through all ranks and orders. Her miserable fall. The neighbouring kings' just reflection on it. An awful image of the divine power and vengeance. From what Tyre fell, and how deep her calamity. COMMERCE gives arts, as well as gain; By commerce wafted o'er the main, They barbarous climes enlighten as they run; Arts, the rich traffic of the soul ! May travel, thus, from pole to pole, And gild the world with learning's brighter sun. Commerce gives learning, virtue, gold! The gods that thron'd you in the wave, And awes with wealth; for wealth is power: She sate an empress! aw'd the flood! She call'd the nations, and she call'd the seas, The fir of Senir makes her floor, The world's last limit bounds her fame; And rich as Nile's, let others boast; O merchant land! as Eden fair! Great mart of nations!-But she fell : She's on her march from yon Almighty throne: She trumpets shrill her dread command: Dark be the light of Earth! the boast, unknown ! For, oh! her sins as red as blood, As crimson deep, outcry the flood; The queen of trade is bought! once wise and just, Now, venal is her council's tongue : Turn gold to dross, her blossom into dust! How riot, violence, and wrong, To things inglorious, far beneath Those high-born souls they proudly breathe, What burning feuds 'twixt brothers reign! Her merchant sage, big man of war, Whose brow with wisdom should be crown'd, What death of truth! what thirst of gold O! foul of heart, her fairest dames Decline the Sun's intruding beams, To mad the midnight in their gloomy haunts: Alas! there is, who sees them there; There is, who flatters not the fair, When cymbals tinkle, and the virgin chants. He sees, and thunders !-Now, in vain! The courser paws, and foams the rein; And chariots stream along the printed soil: In vain! Her high, presumptuous air And freedom lost, the realms deride, Ador'd thee standing, o'er thy ruins shout: "To scourge with war, or peace bestow, Was thine O fallen! fallen low! 'Twas thine, of jarring thrones to still debates: How art thou fallen, down, down, down! Wide waste, and night, and horrour frown, O'er her proud shoulder throws the poor man's toil. Where empire flam'd in gold, and balanc'd states. In robes or gems, her costly stain. In vain! their golden heads her turrets rear; In vain! wines flow in various streams, The golden wedge from Ophir's coasts, From Arab incense vain, she boasts, Vain are her gods, and vainly men adore. Bel falls! the mighty Nebo bends! The nations hiss! her glory ends! To ships, her confidence! she flies from foes; Foes meet her there: the wind, the wave, That once aid, strength, and grandeur gave, Plunge her in seas, from which her glory rose. Her ivory deck, embroider'd sail, And mast of cedar naught avail, Or pilot learn'! She sinks, nor sinks alone, Her gods sink with her! to the sky, Which never more shall meet her eye, She sends her soul out in one dreadful groan. What though so vast her naval might, In her first dawn'd the British right! All flags abas'd her sea-dominion greet: What though she longer warr'd than Troy? At length her foes that isle destroy Whose conquest sail'd, as far as sail'd her fleet, The kings she cloth'd in purple shake Their aweful brows: "O foul mistake! O fatal pride!" they cry, "this, this is she, Who said- With my own art and arm, "This, this is she, who meanly soar'd: And style herself a God !-Through stormy wars "But ah, frail man! how impotent To stand Heaven's vengeance, or prevent! To turn aside the great Creator's aim! Shall island-kings with him contend, "Earth, Ether, Empyreum bow, STRAIN THE THIRD. THE ARGUMENT. An inference from this history. Advice to Britain. More proper to her than other nations. How far the stroke of tyranny reaches. What supports our endeavours. The unconsider'd benefits of liberty. Britain's obligation to pursue trade. Why above half the globe is sea. Britain's grandeur from her situation. The winds, the seas, the constellations, described. Sir Isaac Newton's praise. Britain compared with other states. The leviathan described. Britain's site, and antient title to the seas. Who rivals her. Of Venice. Holland. Some despise trade as mean. Censured for it. Trade's glory. The late Czar. Solomon. A surprising instance of magnificence. The merchant's dignity. Compared with men of letters. HENCE learn, as hearts are foul or pure, This truth, O Britain! ponder well; And charge the gods with favours misbestow'd. This council suits Britannia's isle, Who starve, at home, on meagre toil, 'T were useless caution, and a truth mis-spent. Fell tyrants strike beyond the bone, And wound the soul; bow genius down, Lay virtue waste! for worth or arts, who strain, To throw them at a monster's foot? 'Tis property supports pursuit: Freedom gives eloquence; and freedom, gain. Others may traffic if they please; Is born for trade; to plough her field, the wave: A speck of land! but let her boast, And why? for commerce. Ocean streams Britain, like some great potentate There are her friends; soft Zephyr there, Rough Boreas bursting from the pole: all urge, There are her friends, a marshal'd train: Hyad, for her, leans o'er her urn; Let the proud brothers of the land Leviathan! whom Nature's strife He drinks a river, and ejects a storm. Th' Atlantic surge around our shore Their mighty Genii hold us in their lap. Hear Egbert, Edgar, Ethelred; "The seas are ours."-The monarch saidThe floods their hands, their hands the nations, clap. Whence is a rival, then, to rise? No, there, they dwell, that can give Britain fear : Proud Venice sits amid the waves; Her foot ambitious ocean laves : Art's noblest boast! but O what wondrous odds "Twixt Venice and Britannia's isle! 'T wixt mortal and immortal toil! Britannia is a Venice built by gods. Let Holland triumph o'er her foes, And are there, then, of lofty brow, Alas! these chiefs but little know And what have Earth's mean sons to do, But reap her fruits, and warm pursue The world's chief good, not glut on others' toil? High commerce from the gods came down, With compass, chart, and starry crown, Their delegate, to make the nations smile. Blush, and behold the Russian bow, From forty crowns, his mighty brow To trade. To toil he turns his glorious hand: That arm, which swept the bloody field, See the huge axe, or hammer, wield; While sceptres wait, and thrones impatient stand. O shame to subjects! first renown, Matchless example to the crown! Old Time is poor: what age boasts such a sight? Ye drones! adore the man divineNo; virtue still as mean decline, Call Russians barbarous, and yourselves polite. He too of Judah, great, as wise, With Hiram strove in merchandise: Monarchs with monarchs struggle for an oar ! That merchant sinking to his grave, A flood of treasure swells the cave; The king left much, the merchant bury'd more. Is merchant an inglorious name? No; fit for Pindar such a theme, Too great for me; I pant beneath the weight! If loud as Ocean's were my voice, If words and thoughts to court my choice Out-number'd sands, I could not reach its height. Merchants o'er proudest heroes reign; Kings, merchants are in league and love; 2 Vast treasure taken from Solomon's tomb 1300 years after his death.-YOUNG. Is merchant an inglorious name? Mid various manners, throngs of men, Trade, art's mechanic, Nature's stores Well-weighs; to starry science soars : Reads warm in life (dead-colour'd by the pen) The sites, tongues, interests, of the ball: Who studies trade, he studies all; Accomplish'd merchants are accomplish'd men. STRAIN THE FOURTH. THE ARGUMENT. Pindar invoked. His praise. Britain should decline war; but boldly assert her trade. Encouraged from the throne: Britain's condition without trade. Trade's character, and surprising deeds. Carthage. Solomon's temple. St. Paul's church. The miser's character. The wonderful effects of trade. Why religion recommended to the merchant. What, false joy. What, true. What religion is to the merchant. Why trade more glorious in Britons than others. How warmly, and how long, to be pursued by us. The Briton's legacy. Columbus. His praise. America described. Worlds still unknown. Queen Elizabeth. King George the Second. His glory navally represented. How shall I further rouse the soul? By verse with unextinguish'd ardour wrought? With wealth of words, and unexhausted thought? O thou Dircæan swan, on high, Thy spirit pour, like vernal showers, Though Britain was not born to fear, Nor war decline, if thrones your right invade: Britain a comet, or a star, In commerce this, or that in war, Let Britons shout! Earth, seas, and skies resound! Hear from the throne a voice through time re- So fall from Heaven the vernal showers, The king's speech, What Rome and all her gods defies? And battle for the world! trade gave the call; Where is, on Earth, Jehovah's home? Grandeur unknown to Solomon! Methinks the labouring Earth should groan, Where hadst thou been, if, left at large, Or fill'd it with disgrace, where hadst thou been? As by repletion men consume, Which, passing numerous hands, would shine; Foe to the gods, and rival to the dust. Trade barbarous lands can polish fair; Trade monarchs crowns, and arts imports, Enacts those guards of gain, the laws; Why is Heaven's smile, in wealth, convey'd! 3 St. Paul's, built by the coal-tax.-YOUNG. False joy's a discomposing thing, That jars on nature's trembling string, Tempests the spirits, and untunes the frame: True joy, the sunshine of the soul, A bright serene that calms the whole; Which they ne'er knew, whom other joys inflame. Merchant religion is the care To grow as rich-as angels are ; To know false coin from true; to sweep the main ; Join, then, religion to thy store, Sea-sovereign isle! proud war decline, Rich commerce ply with warmth divine While ages last! in trade burn out the Sun! Trade, Britain's all, our sires sent down This, Edgar great bequeath'd; this, Edward bold: New worlds disclose, with Drake surround an old. Columbus scarce inferior fame For thee to find, than Heaven to frame That womb of gold and gem: her wide domain, An universe! her rivers. seas! Her fruits, both men and gods to please! Heaven's fairest birth! and, but for thee, in vain! Worlds still unknown deep shadows wrap; Call wonders forth from Nature's lap; New glory pour on her Eternal Sire: O noble search! O glorious care! Swear by the great Eliza's soul, For thee, O George! the gods declare: Truth, bright as stars, with thee prevails; Constant, as tides, thy mind; as masts, elate; To steer Britannia's fickle realm; Thy numerous race, sure anchor of her state! STRAIN THE FIFTH. THE ARGUMENT. What is the bound of Britain's power. Beyond that of the most famed in history. The sign Lyra. What the constellations are. Argo. The whale. The dolphin. Eridanus. The lion. Libra. Virgo. Berenice. The British ladies censured. The Moon, What the sea is. Apostrophe to the emperor. The Spanish arma da. How Britain should speak her resentment. What gives power. What navies dó in war The Tartar. Mogul. Africa. China. Who master of the world. What the history of the world is. The genealogy of glory. Mistakes about it. Peace the merchant's harvest. Ships of divine origin. Merchants ambassadors. The Briton's voyage. Praise the food of glory. Britain's re cord. BRITANNIA'S state what bounds confine? Your starry lyre has caught the sound, As in a mirror show th' adventurous throng: The skies are records of the main, The whale (for late I sung his praise) But jealousies his smile subdue; He fears a British rival in the Thames. In pride the Lion lifts his name, As stars below: the Balance, George! from thine, From thy fair daughters Virgo learns to shine. Of Britain's court, ye lesser lights! But, oh! you practise shameful arts; 'The dolphin. |