My facred rights a merchandize alone
Efteeming, and to work their feeder's will,
By deeds a horror to mankind, prepar'd,
As were the dregs of Romulus of old?
Who these indeed can undetesting fee ?—
But who unpitying? To the generous eye
Distress is Virtue; and, tho' felf-betray'd,
A people struggling with their fate must rouze
The hero's throb. Nor can a land, at once,
Be lost to virtue quite. How glorious then!
Fit luxury for Gods! to fave the good,
Protect the feeble, dash bold vice aside,
Deprefs the wicked, and restore the frail.
Pofterity, befides, the young are pure,
And fons may tinge their father's cheek with fhame.
Should then the times arrive (which HEAVEN avert!)
That BRITONS bend unnerv'd, not by the force 305
Of arms, more generous, and more manly, quell'd,
But by Corruption's foul-dejecting arts,
Arts impudent! and grofs! by their own gold,
In part bestow'd, to bribe them to give all.
With party raging, or immers'd in floth,
Should they BRITANNIA's well-fought laurels yield
To flily conquering Gaul; even from her brow
Let her own naval oak be bafely torn,
By fuch as tremble at the ftiffening gale,
And nerveless fink while others fing rejoiced.
Or (darker profpect! scarce one gleam behind
Difclofing) fhould the broad corruptive plague
Breathe from the city to the farthest hut,
That fits ferene within the forest-shade;
The fever'd people fire, inflame their wants,
And their luxurious thirst, so gathering rage,
That, were a buyer found, they ftand prepar'd
To fell their birth-right for a cooling draught.
Should shameless pens for plain Corruption plead ;
The hir'd affaffins of the commonweal!
Deem'd the declaiming rant of GREECE and ROME, Should public Virtue grow the public fcoff,
'Till Private, failing, ftaggers thro' the land:
'Till round the city loofe mechanic Want,
Dire-prowling nightly, makes the chearful haunts 3:30
Of men more hideous than Numidian wilds,
Nor from its fury fleeps the vale in peace ;
And Murders, Horrors, Perjuries, abound;
Nay, 'till to loweft deeds the highest stoop;
The rich, like starving wretches, thirst for gold; 335
And thofe on whom the vernal fhowers of HEAVEN.
All-bounteous fall, and that prime lot beftow,
A power to live to Nature and Themselves,
In fick attendance wear their anxious days,
With fortune, joyless, and with honours, mean. 340-
Meantime, perhaps, Profufion flows around,
The Waste of War, without the Works of Peace;
No mark of millions, in the gulph absorpt
Of uncreating Vice, none but the rage
Of rouz'd Corruption still demanding more.
That very portion, which (by faithful skill
Employ'd) might make the smiling public rear
Her ornamented head, drill'd thro' the hands
Of mercenary tools, ferves but to nurse
A locuft-band within, and in the bud
Leaves starv'd each work of dignity and use.
I paint the worst. But should thefe tines arrive,
If any nobler paffion yet remain,
Let all My Sons all parties fling afide,
Defpife their nonsense, and together join:
Let Worth and Virtue, fcorning low deipair,.
Exerted full, from every quarter fhine,
Commix'd in heighten'd blaze. Light flafh'd to light,
Moral, or intellectual, more intense
By giving glows. As on pure winter's eve,
Gradual, the stars effulge; fainter, at first,
They, ftraggling, rife; but when the radiant host,
In thick profufion pour'd, shine out immense,
Each cafting vivid influence on each,
From pole to pole a glittering deluge plays,
And worlds, above rejoice, and men below.
But why to BRITONS this fuperfluous strain ?—
Good-nature, honest truth even somewhat blunt,
Of crooked basenefs an indignant fcorn,
A zeal unyielding in their country's cause,
And ready Bounty, went to dwell with them-
Nor only wont-Wide o'er the land diffus'd,
In many a blest retirement still they dwell,
To fofter prospects turn we now the view, To laurel'dSCIENCE, ARTS, and PUBLICWORKS, 375 That lend MY FINISH'D FABRIC comely pride, Grandeur and grace. Of fullen genius he! Curs'd by the Muses! by the Graces loath'd! Who deems beneath the public's high regard These last enlivening touches of My reign.
However puff'd with power, and gorg`d with wealth,.
A nation be; let trade enormous rise,
Let Eaft and South their mingled treasure pour, 'Till, fwell'd impetuous, the corrupting flood
Burst o'er the city and devour the land:
Yet these neglected, these recording Arts,
Wealth rots, a nusance; and, oblivious funk,
That nation must another Carthage ly.
If not by them, on monumental brass,
On fculptur'd marble, on the deathless page,
Imprest, renown had left no trace behind:
In vain, to future times, the fage had thought,
The legislator plann'd, the hero found
A beauteous death, the patriot toil'd in vain.
Th' awarders they of Fame's immortal wreathe, 395
They rouze Ambition, they the mind exalt,
Give great ideas, lovely forms infuse,
Delight the general eye; and, dreft by them,
The moral Venus glows with double charms.
SCIENCE, MY close affociate, ftill attends
Where-e'er I go. Sometimes, in fimple guise,
She walks the furrow with the Conful-wain,
Whispering unletter'd wisdom to the heart,.
Direct; or, fometimes, in the pompous robe
Of Fancy dreft, fhe charms Athenian wits,
And a whole fapient city round her burns.
Then o'er her brow MINERVA's terrors nod:
With XENOPHON, fometimes, in dire extremes,
She breathes, deliberate foul, and makes * Retreat,
Unequal'd glory: with the Theban fage,
EPAMINONDAS, firft and beft of men!
Sometimes the bids the deep-embattled høst,
Above the vulgar reach, resistless form'd,
March to fure conqueft-never gain'd before! †
Nor on the treacherous feas of giddy state
Unfkilful the: when the triumphant tide
* The famous Retreat of the Ten Thousand was chiefly conducted by XENOPHON.
† Epaminondas, after having beat the Lacedemonians and their allies, in the battle of Leutra, made an incurfion at the head of a powerful army, into Laconia. It was now fix hund▲ red years fince the Dorians had poffeffed this country, and in all that time the face of an enemy had not been feen within their territory. Plutarch in Agefilaus.
Of high-fwoln Empire wears one boundless fmile,
And the gale tempts to new pursuits of fanie,
Sometimes, with SCIPIO, the collects her fail,
And feeks the blissful shore of rural ease,
Where, but th' Aonian Maids, no Syrens fing,
Or fhould the deep-brew'd tempest muttering rife,
While rocks and fhoals perfidious lurk around,
With TULLY the her wide-reviving light
To fenates holds, a Catiline confounds,
And faves a while from Caefar finking ROME.
diffolves
Such the kind power, whose piercing eye
Each mental fetter, and fets Reason free;
For Me infpiring an enlighten'd zeal,
The more tenacious as the more convinc'd
How happy Freemen, and how wretched Slaves.
TO BRITONS not unknown, to BRITONS full
The GODDESS spreads her stores, the secret soul
That quickens trade, the breath unfeen that wafts.
To them the treasures of a balanc'd world.
But FINER ARTS (fave what the MUSE has fung
In daring flight, above all modern wing)
Neglected droop the head; and PUBLIC WORKS,
Broke by Corruption into private gain,
Not ornament, difgrace; not ferve, destroy.
Shall BRITONS, by theirown JOINT WISDOM rul'd Beneath one ROYAL HEAD, whofe vital power Connects, enlivens and exerts the WHOLE; In FINER ARTS, and PUBLIC WORKS, shall they To Gallia yield? yield to a land that bends, Depreft, and broke, beneath the will of One? Of One who, should th' unkingly thirst of gold, Or tyrant paffions, or ambition, prompt, Calls Locuft-armies o'er the blafted land: Drains from its thirsty bounds the springs of wealth,
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