Imágenes de página

Reluctant call it was; the rite delayed;
And in the Senate some there were who doffed
The last of their humanity, and scoffed
At providential judgments, undismayed
By their own daring. But the People prayed
As with one voice; their flinty heart grew soft
With penitential sorrow, and aloft
Their spirit mounted, crying, " God us aid!"
Oh that with aspirations more intense,
Chastised by self-abasement more profound,
This People, once so happy, so renowned
For liberty, would seek from God defence
Against far heavier ill, the pestilence
Of revolution, impiously unbound!


Forth rushed, from Envy sprung and Self-conceit, Protest

A Power misnamed the Spirit of Reform, Su*?* ^

And through the astonished Island swept in storm, jg^g

Threatening to lay all Orders at her feet

That crossed her way. Now stoops she to entreat

Licence to hide at intervals her head

Where she may work, safe, undisquieted,

In a close Box, covert for Justice meet.

St George of England! keep a watchful eye

Fixed on the Suitor; frustrate her request—

Stifle her hope; for, if the State comply,

From such Pandorian gift may come a Pest

Worse than the Dragon that bowed low his crest,

Pierced by thy spear in glorious victory.

Upon the late General Fast

March, 1832 The Ballot Said Secrecy to Cowardice and Fraud,

1838 Falsehood and Treachery, in close council met,
Deep under ground, in Pluto's cabinet,
"The frost of England's pride will soon be thawed;
Hooded the open brow that overawed
Our schemes; the faith and honour, never yet
By us with hope encountered, be upset;—
For once I burst my bands, and cry, applaud!"
Then whispered she, "The Bill is carrying out!"
They heard, and starting up, the Brood of Night
Clapped hands, and shook with glee their matted

All Powers and Places that abhor the light
Joined in the transport, echoed back their shout,
Hurrah for , hugging his Ballot-box!

A Statesman Blest Statesman He, whose Mind's unselfish will 1838 Leaves him at ease among grand thoughts; whose eye

Sees that, apart from magnanimity,
Wisdom exists not; nor the humbler skill
Of Prudence, disentangling good and ill
With patient care. What tho' assaults run high,
They daunt not him who holds his ministry,
Resolute, at all hazards, to fulfil
Its duties;—prompt to move, but firm to wait,—
Knowing things rashly sought are rarely found;
That, for the functions of an ancient State—
Strong by her charters, free because imbound,
Servant of Providence, not slave of Fate—
Perilous is sweeping change, all chance unsound.
Portentous change when History can appear
As the cool Advocate of foul device;
Reckless audacity extol, and jeer
At consciences perplexed with scruples nice!
They who bewail not must abhor the sneer
Born of Conceit, Power's blind Idolater;
Or haply sprung from vaunting Cowardice
Betrayed by mockery of holy fear.
Hath it not long been said the wrath of Man
Works not the righteousness of God? Oh bend,
Bend, ye Perverse! to judgments from on High,
Laws that lay under Heaven's perpetual ban
All principles of action that transcend
The sacred limits of humanity.

On recent Histories of the French Revolution 1842?

Who ponders National events shall find Continued

An awful balancing of loss and gain,

Joy based on sorrow, good with ill combined,

And proud deliverance issuing out of pain

And direful throes; as if the All-ruling Mind,

With whose perfection it consists to ordain

Volcanic burst, earthquake, and hurricane,

Dealt in like sort with feeble human kind

By laws immutable. But woe for him

Who thus deceived shall lend an eager hand

To social havoc. Is not Conscience ours,

And Truth, whose eye guilt only can make dim;

And Will, whose office, by divine command,

Is to control and check disordered Powers?

Concluded Long-favoured England! be not thou misled
By monstrous theories of alien growth,
Lest alien frenzy seize thee, waxing wroth,
Self-smitten till thy garments reek dyed red
With thy own blood, which tears in torrents shed
Fail to wash out, tears flowing ere thy troth
Be plighted, not to ease but sullen sloth,
Or wan despair—the ghost of false hope fled
Into a shameful grave. Among thy youth,
My Country! if such warning be held dear,
Then shall a Veteran's heart be thrilled with joy,
One who would gather from eternal truth,
For time and season, rules that work to cheer—
Not scourge, to save the People—not destroy.

After hearing Men of the Western World! in Fate's dark book reports of Whence these opprobrious leaves of dire portent? committed Think ye your British Ancestors forsook in America Their native Land, for outrage provident; 1839 From unsubmissive necks the bridle shook To give, in their Descendants, freer vent And wider range to passions turbulent, To mutual tyranny a deadlier look? Nay, said a voice, soft as the south wind's breath, Dive through the stormy surface of the flood To the great current flowing underneath; Explore the countless springs of silent good; So shall the truth be better understood, And thy grieved Spirit brighten strong in faith.

Days undefiled by luxury or sloth,

Firm self-denial, manners grave and staid,

Rights equal, laws with cheerfulness obeyed,

Words that require no sanction from an oath,

And simple honesty a common growth—

This high repute, with bounteous Nature's aid,

Won confidence, now ruthlessly betrayed

At will, your power the measure of your troth! —

All who revere the memory of Penn

Grieve for the land on whose wild woods his name

Was fondly grafted with a virtuous aim,

Renounced, abandoned by degenerate Men

For state-dishonour black as ever came

To upper air from Mammon's loathsome den.

To the








Ah why deceive ourselves! by no mere fit
Of sudden passion roused shall men attain
True freedom where for ages they have lain
Bound in a dark abominable pit,
With life's best sinews more and more unknit.
Here, there, a banded few who loathe the chain
May rise to break it; effort worse than vain
For thee, O great Italian nation, split
Into those jarring fractions.—Let thy scope
Be one fixed mind for all; thy rights approve
To thy own conscience gradually renewed;
Learn to make Time the father of wise Hope;
Then trust thy cause to the arm of Fortitude,
The light of Knowledge, and the warmth of Love.

At Bologna, after the Insurrections 1837

« AnteriorContinuar »