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And calmly bent, to fervitude coaform,

Dull as their lakes that flumber in the ftorm.

Heavens! how unlike their Belgic fires of old!
Rough, poor, content, ungovernably bold;
War in each breast, and freedom on each brow;
How much unlike the fons of Britain now!

Fir'd at the found, my genius fpreads her wing,
And flies where Britain courts the western spring;
Where lawns extend that scorn Arcadian pride,
And brighter ftreams than fam'd Hydafpis glide,
There all around the gentleft breezes ftray,
There gentle mufic melts on every spray;
Creation's mildest charms are there combin'd,
Extremes are only in the master's mind!
Stern o'er each bofom Reafon holds her ftate
With daring aims irregularly great;
Pride in their port, defiance in their eye,
I fee the lords of human kind pass by;
Intent on high designs, a thoughtful band,
By forms unfashion'd fresh from Nature's hand;
Fierce in their native hardiness of foul,

True to imagin'd right, above controul,

While even the peasant boasts these rights to scan,
And learns to venerate himself as man.

Thine, Freedom, thine the bleffings pictur'd here, Thine are those charms that dazzle and endear;

Too

Too bleft indeed, were fuch without alloy,
But foster'd even by Freedom ills annoy;
That independence Britons prize too high,
Keeps man from man, and breaks the focial tie;
The felf-dependent lordlings ftand alone,
All claims that bind and sweeten life unknown ;
Here by the bonds of nature feebly held,
Minds combat minds, repelling and repell'd.
Ferments arife, imprifon'd factions roar,
Repreft ambition ftruggles round her shore,
Till over-wrought, the general system feels
Its motions ftop, or phrenzy fire the wheels.

Nor this the worst. As nature's ties decay,
As duty, love, and honour fail to fway,
Fictitious bonds, the bonds of wealth and law,
Still gather ftrength, and force unwilling awe.
Hence all obedience bows to these alone,

And talent finks, and merit weeps unknown;
Till time may come, when, ftript of all her charms,
The land of scholars, and the nurse of arms,
Where noble stems tranfmit the patriot flame,
Where kings have toil'd, and poets wrote for fame,
One fink of level avarice shall lie,

And scholars, foldiers, kings, unhonour'd die.

Yet think not, thus when Freedom's ills I ftate,
I mean to flatter kings, or court the great;
Ye powers of truth, that bid my foul afpire,
Far from my bofom drive the low defire;

And

And thou, fair Freedom, taught alike to feel
The rabble's rage, and tyrant's angry steel;
Thou tranfitory flower, alike undone
By proud contempt, or favour's foftering fun,
Still may thy blooms the changeful clime endure,
I only would reprefs them to fecure :

For juft experience tells, in every foil,

That thofe who think muft govern those that toil;
And all that freedom's highest aims can reach,
Is but to lay proportion'd loads on each.
Hence, fhould one order difproportion'd grow,
Its double weight must ruin all below.

O then how blind to all that truth requires,
Who think it freedom when a part aspires!
Calm is my foul, nor apt to rife in arms,
Except when fast approaching danger warms:
But when contending chiefs blockade the throne,
Contracting regal power to stretch their own,
When I behold a factious band agree

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To call it freedom when themselves are free;
Each wanton judge new penal statutes draw,
Laws grind the poor, and rich men rule the law;
The wealth of climes, where favage nations roam,
Pillag'd from flaves to purchase flaves at home;
Fear, pity, justice, indignation ftart,
Tear off referve, and bare my fwelling heart;
Till half a patriot, half a coward grown,

I fly from petty tyrants to the throne.

VOL. I.

E

Yes,

Yes, brother, curfe with me that baleful hour, When first ambition ftruck at regal power;

And thus polluting honour in it's fource,

Gave wealth to sway the mind with double force,
Have we not feen, round Britain's peopled fhore,
Her useful fons exchang'd for useless ore ?
Seen all her triumphs but deftruction hafte,
Like flaring tapers bright'ning as they wafte;
Seen opulence, her grandeur to maintain,
Lead ftern depopulation in her train,
And over fields where scatter'd hamlets rofe,
In barren folitary pomp repofe?

Have we not seen at pleasure's lordly call,
The fmiling long-frequented village fall?
Beheld the duteous fon, the fire decay'd,
The modeft matron, and the blushing maid,
Forc'd from their homes, a melancholy train,
To traverse climes beyond the western main;
Where wild Ofwego fpreads her fwamps around,
And Niagara ftuns with thund'ring found?

Even now, perhaps, as there fome pilgrim ftrays Through tangled forests, and through dangerous ways; Where beasts with man divided empire claim, And the brown Indian marks with murd'rous aim There, while above the giddy tempeft flies, And all around diftrefsful yells arife, The penfive exile, bending with his woe, To stop too fearful, and too faint to go,

Cafts

Cafts a long look where England's glories fhine,
And bids his bosom sympathize with mine.

Vain, very vain, my weary fearch to find
That blifs which only centers in the mind :
Why have I ftray'd, from pleasure and repose,
To feek a good each government bestows?
In every government, though terrors reign,
Though tyrant kings, or tyrant laws restrain,
How small of all that human hearts endure,
That part which laws or kings can cause or cure.
Still to ourselves in every place confign'd,
Our own felicity we make or find:

With fecret courfe, which no loud ftorms annoy,
Glides the smooth current of domestic joy.
The lifted ax, the agonizing wheel,

Luke's iron crown, and Damien's bed of steel,
To men remote from power but rarely known,
Leave reason, faith, and confcience, all our own.

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