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Beyond that mark is treason. He is ours,
T'administer, to guard, t'adorn the state,
But not to warp or change it. We are his,
To serve him nobly in the common cause,
True to the death, but not to be his slaves.
Mark now the diff'rence, ye that boast your love
Of kings, between your loyalty and ours.
We love the man ; the paltry pageant you.
We the chief patron of the commonwealth ;
You the regardless author of its woes.
We, for the sake of liberty, a king;
You chains and bondage, for a tyrant's fake.
Our love is principle, and has its root
In reason, is judicious, manly, free;
Yours, a blind instinct, crouches to the rod,
And licks the foot that treads it in the duft.
Were kingship as true treasure as it seems,
Sterling, and worthy of a wise man's wish,
I would not be a king to be belov'd
Causeless, and daub'd with undiscerning praise,
Where love is mere attachment to the throne,
Not to the man who fills it as he ought.
Whose freedom is by fuffrance, and at will
Of a superior, he is never free.
Who lives, and is not weary of a life
Expos'd to manacles, deserves them well.
The state that strives for liberty, though foil'd,
And forc'd t'abandon what she bravely sought,
Deserves at least applause for her attempt,
And pity for her loss. But that's a cause.
Not often unsuccefsful : pow'r usurp'd
Is weakness when oppos’d; conscious of wrong,
'Tis pufillanimous and prone to flight.
But llaves that once conceive the glowing thought
Of freedom, in that hope itself poffels
All that the contest calls for ; spirit, strength,
The scorn of danger, and united hearts,
The fureft presage of the good they seek.*
Then shame to manhood, and opprobrious more
To France than all her losses and defeats,
Old or of later date, by fea or land,
Her house of bondage, worse than that of old
Which God aveng'd on Pharaoh-the Bastile,
Ye horrid tow'rs, the abode of broken hearts,
Ye dungeons and ye cages.of despair,
That monarchs have fupplied from age to age
With music such as suits their fov'reign ears,
The fighs and groans of miserable men!
There's not an English heart that would not leap
* The author hopes that he fhall not be cenfüred for : unnecessary warmth upon fo interesting a - Subject. He is aware that it is become almost fashionable to ftigmatize such fentiments as no better than.
declamation ; but it is an ill symptom, and peculiar to modern times. .
To hear that ye were fallin at laft; to know
That ev'n our enemies, fo oft employ'd
In forging chains for us, themfelves were free.
For he who values liberty, confines
His zeal for her predominance within
No narrow bounds; her cause engages him
Wherever pleaded. Tis the cause of man.
There dwell the most forlorn of human kind,
Immur'd though unaccus'd, condemn'd
Cruelly spar'd, and hopeless of escape.
There, like the visionary emblem feen
By him of Babylon, life stands a stump,
And filleted about with hoops of brafs,
Still lives, though all its pleafant boughs are
gone. To count the hour-bell and expect no change ; And ever, as the fullen found is heard, Still to reflect, that though a joyless note To him whose moments all have one dull pace, Ten thousand rovers in the world at large Account it music; that it fummons some To theatre, or jocund feast or ball; The wearied hireling finds it a release From labour; and the lover, who has chid Its long delay, fèels ev'ry welcome stroke Upon his heart-strings, trembling with delightTo fly for refuge from diftracting thought
To fuch amusements as ingenious woe
Contrives hard-lhifting and without her tools
To read engraven on the mouldy walls,
In ftagg'ring types, his predeceffor's tale,
A sad memorial, and subjoin his own-
To turn purveyor to an avergorg'd
And bloated spider, till the pamper'd pest
Is made familiar, watches his approach,
Comes at his call, and serves him for a friend
To wear out time in numb'ring to and fro
The studs that thick emboss his iron door,
Then downward and then upwards, then aflant
And then alternate with a sickly hope
By dint of change to give his tasteless talk
Some relish, till the sum exactly found
In all directions, he begins again
Oh comfortless existence! hemm'd around
With woes, which who, that suffers, would not
And beg for exile, or the pangs of death?
That man should thus encroach on fellow man,
Abridge him of his just and native rights,
Eradicate him, tear him from his hold
Upon th' endearments of domestic life
And social, nip his fruitfulness and use,
And doom him for perhaps an heedless word :
To barrenness, and folitude, and tears,
Moves indignation ; makes the name of king
(Of king whom such prerogative can please)
As dreadful as the Manichean god,
Ador'd through fear, strong only to destroy.
'Tis liberty alone that gives the flow'r
Of fleeting life its luftre and perfume,
And we are weeds without it. All constraint,
Except what wisdom lays on evil men,
Is evil; hurts the faculties, impedes
Their progress in the road of science; blinds
The eye-fight of discov'ry, and begets,
In those that suffer it, a sordid mind
Bestial, a meagre intellect, unfit,
To be the tenant of man's noble form.
Thee therefore ftill, blame-worthy as thou art,
With all thy lofs.of empire, and though fqueez'd
By public exigence till annual food
Fails for the craving hunger of the state,
Thee I account ftill happy, and the chief
Among the nations, seeing thou art free
My native nook of earth! thy clime is rude,
Replete with vapours, and disposes much
All hearts to fadness, and none more than mine;
Thine unadult rate manners are less foft
And plausible than social life requires,
And thou hast need of discipline and art
To give thee what politer France receives
From Nature's bounty--that humane address
And sweetness, without which no pleasure is