The Life and Poetical Works of James Woodhouse (1735-1820): Edited by the Rev. R. I. Woodhouse |
 | I, II. |
 |
|
|
|
|
| I. |
| II. |
| III. |
| IV. |
| V. |
| VI. |
| VII. |
| VIII. |
| IX. |
 |
CHAPTER 6th.
The Life and Poetical Works of James Woodhouse |  |
CHAPTER 6th.
When poor Crispinus, now, was turn'd adrift,
For Self—worn Wife, and Family, to shift,
With dubious character, tho' clear of charge;
His fortune little, and his hopes not large—
Bereft of honour, and so stripp'd of trust,
With marks of guilt which give the World disgust;
And circumstantial shows which most might shock
The feeling Mother, and her harmless Flock—
Thus did the Despot's cruelty discard,
The bleeding Daphne, and the blushing Bard!
For Self—worn Wife, and Family, to shift,
With dubious character, tho' clear of charge;
His fortune little, and his hopes not large—
Bereft of honour, and so stripp'd of trust,
With marks of guilt which give the World disgust;
And circumstantial shows which most might shock
The feeling Mother, and her harmless Flock—
Thus did the Despot's cruelty discard,
The bleeding Daphne, and the blushing Bard!
At this strange crisis, Crispin, patient still,
Obedient bow'd to heavenly Wisdom's Will;
Nor, midst his dire disgraces once forgot
That God's right hand of Love cast all his Lot;
And, still paternal, in each time and place,
This Loving-kindness gave sufficient grace.
His Goodness limited both loss and gain—
Apportion'd pleasure, and appointed pain.
Convinc'd His Providence had thither sent,
That Sin might suffer—ponder—and repent!
His influence gave the Tyrant's heart each turn,
Aforetime to protect, and, now, to spurn!
Rais'd Anger's gale—directed Pride and Spite,
To force the pain'd returning Pilgrim's flight!
And, to fulfil His Faithfulness the while,
Led their lone steps to seek their native Soil!
Expell'd, like criminals, without a crime—
Their best decennary sunk since purest prime—
With small provision for approaching Age—
Pursued by hostile contumelious rage—
And why? their irritated hearts abus'd
The insolent demands of despot Pride refus'd;
In right resentment, so to counteract
The full completion of that cunning pact,
Thus form'd, and finish'd, with such wicked Art;
Regardless of poor Crispin's grief or smart.
He helps kept back, which justice could not claim,
Deserving neither bickerings, noise, nor blame;
But to obstruct intelligence's course
To Foes, thus acting both by fraud and force.
Obedient bow'd to heavenly Wisdom's Will;
Nor, midst his dire disgraces once forgot
That God's right hand of Love cast all his Lot;
And, still paternal, in each time and place,
This Loving-kindness gave sufficient grace.
His Goodness limited both loss and gain—
Apportion'd pleasure, and appointed pain.
Convinc'd His Providence had thither sent,
That Sin might suffer—ponder—and repent!
His influence gave the Tyrant's heart each turn,
Aforetime to protect, and, now, to spurn!
Rais'd Anger's gale—directed Pride and Spite,
To force the pain'd returning Pilgrim's flight!
And, to fulfil His Faithfulness the while,
Led their lone steps to seek their native Soil!
Expell'd, like criminals, without a crime—
Their best decennary sunk since purest prime—
With small provision for approaching Age—
Pursued by hostile contumelious rage—
And why? their irritated hearts abus'd
The insolent demands of despot Pride refus'd;
In right resentment, so to counteract
The full completion of that cunning pact,
Thus form'd, and finish'd, with such wicked Art;
Regardless of poor Crispin's grief or smart.
He helps kept back, which justice could not claim,
Deserving neither bickerings, noise, nor blame;
But to obstruct intelligence's course
To Foes, thus acting both by fraud and force.
This was a constand theme, extended long,
In sharp epistle, or with taunting tongue;
With keen afflicting style, to damp delights,
When hoping peace, upon his native Heights;
Or frequent painful speeches, harsh and rude,
Engag'd again in slavish Servitude.
In sharp epistle, or with taunting tongue;
With keen afflicting style, to damp delights,
When hoping peace, upon his native Heights;
Or frequent painful speeches, harsh and rude,
Engag'd again in slavish Servitude.
Poor Crispin wander'd home, with aching heart,
Pierc'd thro' and thro', with many a murderous dart!
To meet a Mother, bent with burdening Age!
All torn with sorrows, Time could scarce asswage!
A Skeleton! much melted down with tears,
From past misfortunes, and from present fears!
Perplex'd with cares—by dire disaster cross'd—
Her Friend! her Husband! kind Protector! lost!
To meet Relations, once so blythe and bland,
With lustrous look, and close-compressing hand,
Now skulking, distant, with indignant eyes,
While covering, with a scowl, some dark surmise;
Perchance with muttering mock, and frowning face,
Whispering what crimes must cause this deep disgrace—
To front alliances with fawning look,
And fashion'd forms, eleven long years forsook—
New friendships find—bind old connexions, broke—
And humbly bend beneath each ancient yoke—
Find patron views with pristine vigour, fled
Still bend, with toil, to drudge for daily bread,
Amidst the loss of fame—the World's foul sneers—
While doubling down with heaps of added Years;
There, patient, waiting Death's approaching doom,
Then, with Forefathers' dust, partake a tomb!
Pierc'd thro' and thro', with many a murderous dart!
To meet a Mother, bent with burdening Age!
All torn with sorrows, Time could scarce asswage!
A Skeleton! much melted down with tears,
From past misfortunes, and from present fears!
Perplex'd with cares—by dire disaster cross'd—
Her Friend! her Husband! kind Protector! lost!
To meet Relations, once so blythe and bland,
105
Now skulking, distant, with indignant eyes,
While covering, with a scowl, some dark surmise;
Perchance with muttering mock, and frowning face,
Whispering what crimes must cause this deep disgrace—
To front alliances with fawning look,
And fashion'd forms, eleven long years forsook—
New friendships find—bind old connexions, broke—
And humbly bend beneath each ancient yoke—
Find patron views with pristine vigour, fled
Still bend, with toil, to drudge for daily bread,
Amidst the loss of fame—the World's foul sneers—
While doubling down with heaps of added Years;
There, patient, waiting Death's approaching doom,
Then, with Forefathers' dust, partake a tomb!
Was this the Fortune Faith had hopes to find,
To fix his Friends and glad his grateful Mind?
These the fair fruits a Favourite seem'd to see;
Rich grapes of gold, on Patronage's tree!
Suspended, full, on every furnish'd spray,
By fruitful promises, from day to day?
The clustering crops, which, gather'd, more would grow;
That Worth might win, or Bounty would bestow?
Alas! the laughing vintage vainly ends,
That on capricious female Minds depends!
How scanty is the crop! the fruit how small!
Still ripening slow, or prospering not at all!
Oft wanting warmth from Patron's prospering smile,
With breezes breath'd from full free will the while!
Frail is the flow'r, and fugitive the fruit,
That springs from fickle Friendship's cankery root!
Soon buds and blooms are nipp'd by freezing frown!
Soon fruitage drops, by Passion's blasts blown down!
The short-liv'd shoots, that Flattery's radiance fed,
From cold caprice soon hang each shrivell'd head;
Nor long the rotten roots fresh sap supply,
But stem decays, and bearing branches die!
To fix his Friends and glad his grateful Mind?
These the fair fruits a Favourite seem'd to see;
Rich grapes of gold, on Patronage's tree!
Suspended, full, on every furnish'd spray,
By fruitful promises, from day to day?
The clustering crops, which, gather'd, more would grow;
That Worth might win, or Bounty would bestow?
Alas! the laughing vintage vainly ends,
That on capricious female Minds depends!
How scanty is the crop! the fruit how small!
Still ripening slow, or prospering not at all!
Oft wanting warmth from Patron's prospering smile,
With breezes breath'd from full free will the while!
Frail is the flow'r, and fugitive the fruit,
That springs from fickle Friendship's cankery root!
Soon buds and blooms are nipp'd by freezing frown!
Soon fruitage drops, by Passion's blasts blown down!
The short-liv'd shoots, that Flattery's radiance fed,
From cold caprice soon hang each shrivell'd head;
Nor long the rotten roots fresh sap supply,
But stem decays, and bearing branches die!
Sometimes gross Selfishness distributes gold,
In hopes of gathering gain an hundred-fold.
Oft Affectation shows a shrewd pretence
To look like Charity with prompt expence;
While Ostentation all her bounties tells
To fill Fame's pipe with more expansive swells.
Oft Pomp, and Pride, and Vanity's conceal'd
With blythe Benevolence's vizor veil'd;
And, kerchief'd close, like Sympathy, appear
To pity Penury's sigh, and Sorrow's tear;
By speeches, labouring, more than gifts, to prove,
All springs from pure, disinterested Love—
But each corrupted Wretch such bribes have bought
Must strangle Truth by throttling honest thought;
Must feel the force of every dirty dole
The seal of servitude, and sale of Soul!
If, ever after, falsely-construed Facts
Should stamp opinion in such tacit pacts—
Should looks appear like proofs of suffering Sense,
Or speech proclaim the injur'd Heart's offence;
Such looks, such words, are construed coarse and rude,
Such honest acts all gross ingratitude!
In hopes of gathering gain an hundred-fold.
Oft Affectation shows a shrewd pretence
To look like Charity with prompt expence;
While Ostentation all her bounties tells
To fill Fame's pipe with more expansive swells.
Oft Pomp, and Pride, and Vanity's conceal'd
With blythe Benevolence's vizor veil'd;
And, kerchief'd close, like Sympathy, appear
To pity Penury's sigh, and Sorrow's tear;
By speeches, labouring, more than gifts, to prove,
All springs from pure, disinterested Love—
But each corrupted Wretch such bribes have bought
Must strangle Truth by throttling honest thought;
Must feel the force of every dirty dole
The seal of servitude, and sale of Soul!
If, ever after, falsely-construed Facts
Should stamp opinion in such tacit pacts—
Should looks appear like proofs of suffering Sense,
Or speech proclaim the injur'd Heart's offence;
Such looks, such words, are construed coarse and rude,
Such honest acts all gross ingratitude!
O Gratitude! sweet relative of Love!
Bless'd loan, like her, transmitted from above!
Delightful Guest! who ne'er dost long depart
From thy warm dwelling in the upright heart.
Yet upright hearts may spurn, and must despise
All cursed lusts of cruelty and lies!
And tho' thy grateful memory ne'er forgets,
From Fellow-mortals, the minutest debts;
But all thy faithful bosom's feelings burn
To make all benefits their full return—
Still striving to remunerate ready meed,
For every gracious word, or gladdening deed;
For every friendly look's fraternal tone,
Each kind intent, or generous wish, when known!
Thou ne'er disclaim'st one act of kindness, wrought,
One soothing word, soft wish, or tender thought;
Still Thou must shrink when sharply suffering wrong,
From frowning face, fierce look, and taunting tongue,
When Hatred's glooms, and Anger's grating sounds,
With Spite, and Malice, break all moral bounds:
And tho' Thou still retain'st each virtuous view,
Compell'd to fly when such foul Fiends pursue:
As tender flow'rs and fruits the Earth witholds
From wintery winds, or Autumn's cutting colds,
So Thou withold'st glad words, and glances warm,
While Passions pass, or blow harsh blustering storm;
Makest no kind accent heard, or sweet smile seen,
While freezing frowns display the Soul of Spleen:
But, as the Virgin, fair, to covert flies,
To skreen her snowy skin from Summer skies;
Or tucks her shining train, and shuns to meet
The splashing crowd, or coach, in spattering street,
Thou hid'st thy bosom fair, and beauteous face,
From Flattery's eye, and Falshood's bold embrace—
Conceal'st, with care, thy spotless form, and fame,
From Pride's intemperate force, and Passion's flame—
Fliest faithless Friends, become base Foes, at last,
With Conscience clear, to 'scape the filth they cast.
Bless'd loan, like her, transmitted from above!
Delightful Guest! who ne'er dost long depart
From thy warm dwelling in the upright heart.
Yet upright hearts may spurn, and must despise
All cursed lusts of cruelty and lies!
And tho' thy grateful memory ne'er forgets,
From Fellow-mortals, the minutest debts;
But all thy faithful bosom's feelings burn
To make all benefits their full return—
Still striving to remunerate ready meed,
For every gracious word, or gladdening deed;
For every friendly look's fraternal tone,
Each kind intent, or generous wish, when known!
Thou ne'er disclaim'st one act of kindness, wrought,
One soothing word, soft wish, or tender thought;
Still Thou must shrink when sharply suffering wrong,
From frowning face, fierce look, and taunting tongue,
When Hatred's glooms, and Anger's grating sounds,
With Spite, and Malice, break all moral bounds:
And tho' Thou still retain'st each virtuous view,
Compell'd to fly when such foul Fiends pursue:
As tender flow'rs and fruits the Earth witholds
From wintery winds, or Autumn's cutting colds,
So Thou withold'st glad words, and glances warm,
While Passions pass, or blow harsh blustering storm;
Makest no kind accent heard, or sweet smile seen,
While freezing frowns display the Soul of Spleen:
But, as the Virgin, fair, to covert flies,
To skreen her snowy skin from Summer skies;
Or tucks her shining train, and shuns to meet
The splashing crowd, or coach, in spattering street,
Thou hid'st thy bosom fair, and beauteous face,
106
Conceal'st, with care, thy spotless form, and fame,
From Pride's intemperate force, and Passion's flame—
Fliest faithless Friends, become base Foes, at last,
With Conscience clear, to 'scape the filth they cast.
Pure Gratitude! thy strength can ne'er withstand
Impetuous Pride, and brawling Passion's band!
Thy charms from Calumny scarce e'er escape,
While Scandal Sketches frightful, face and shape!
False prejudice and pique, ne'er, long, will spare
Thy heavenly looks, and inoffensive air;
Nor Envy's eye see clear thy simple mien,
While colour'd lenses, Malice slides between!
Impetuous Pride, and brawling Passion's band!
Thy charms from Calumny scarce e'er escape,
While Scandal Sketches frightful, face and shape!
False prejudice and pique, ne'er, long, will spare
Thy heavenly looks, and inoffensive air;
Nor Envy's eye see clear thy simple mien,
While colour'd lenses, Malice slides between!
By these thy sacred stole is constant stain'd—
Thy best intentions, noblest aims, arraign'd—
For branding Pride no opposition brooks,
But marks, like libels, all thy mildest looks!
Calls writhings rude—the meekest answers rash,
While flogg'd, while flay'd, with Persecution's lash!
Not suffering Servitude to flinch, nor feel,
While struck with weapon'd looks like whips of steel!
No pure designs, nor perfect conduct, saves
From foul surmises, poor imprison'd Slaves,
While Passion prompts dark Prejudice to see,
And prove delinquency from Pride's decree;
For when sore, joyless, Jealousy assaults,
All honest efforts, turn to fancied faults.
All shame-faced fronts—all signs of sorrow shown;
Each plaintive sigh, each deep and dolourous groan;
True Innocence's tears, when amply spilt,
Are deem'd full damning proofs of grossest guilt—
Ev'n Death by razor, water, pistol, rope,
Would ne'er fill up Spite's curs'd infernal scope,
But Passsion's pow'r so fierce—Revenge so fell,
Would wish to sink delinquent Souls to Hell.
Thy best intentions, noblest aims, arraign'd—
For branding Pride no opposition brooks,
But marks, like libels, all thy mildest looks!
Calls writhings rude—the meekest answers rash,
While flogg'd, while flay'd, with Persecution's lash!
Not suffering Servitude to flinch, nor feel,
While struck with weapon'd looks like whips of steel!
No pure designs, nor perfect conduct, saves
From foul surmises, poor imprison'd Slaves,
While Passion prompts dark Prejudice to see,
And prove delinquency from Pride's decree;
For when sore, joyless, Jealousy assaults,
All honest efforts, turn to fancied faults.
All shame-faced fronts—all signs of sorrow shown;
Each plaintive sigh, each deep and dolourous groan;
True Innocence's tears, when amply spilt,
Are deem'd full damning proofs of grossest guilt—
Ev'n Death by razor, water, pistol, rope,
Would ne'er fill up Spite's curs'd infernal scope,
But Passsion's pow'r so fierce—Revenge so fell,
Would wish to sink delinquent Souls to Hell.
But what are they, who, thus, by Hatred blind,
So virulently vex, and curse, their Kind?
Who servile Vassals causelessly accuse,
For thus witholding mere imagin'd dues?
Who thus convict, and vent such sentence vile,
Against ingratitude, or dangerous guile?
Who dare Delinquent's fancied faults condemn,
Yet feel no deeds of darkness fix on Them?
Are they the ruthless Rich; the graceless Great;
Who thus their sinful Fellow-mortals treat?
Still hope in endless happiness to live,
Who ne'er a Brother's blemishes forgive?
Who, for mere foibles Culprits dare condemn,
Suppose pure Deity will pardon Them?
So virulently vex, and curse, their Kind?
Who servile Vassals causelessly accuse,
For thus witholding mere imagin'd dues?
Who thus convict, and vent such sentence vile,
Against ingratitude, or dangerous guile?
Who dare Delinquent's fancied faults condemn,
Yet feel no deeds of darkness fix on Them?
Are they the ruthless Rich; the graceless Great;
Who thus their sinful Fellow-mortals treat?
Still hope in endless happiness to live,
Who ne'er a Brother's blemishes forgive?
Who, for mere foibles Culprits dare condemn,
Suppose pure Deity will pardon Them?
Will Wealth's proud Offsprings, Pow'r's imperious Elves,
With like discrimination damn themselves?
Has every Child of Pow'r, and Imp of Pelf,
Lov'd every Neighbour as it loves itself?
Will Pleasure's Daughters, Dissipation's Wives,
As nicely scrutinize their careless lives?
Will Folly's fashionable Sires, and Sons,
Engage their talents while Time's hour-glass runs?
Turn the same end of telescopic glass
And watch their faults, and foibles, while they pass?
Inspect their Souls with microscopic sight,
And read what Act was rash? what Habit right?
Dissect their hearts with diligence, and care,
To trace what words were foul, what wishes fair?
Their teeming motives accurately mind
And mark how each might influence all Mankind?
That none originate from wish, or will,
To work, with craft, one Fellow-creature's ill?
Doth ne'er one act, word, thought, or motive, tend
Tow'rds some pernicious or unfruitful end?
And, while thus peeping, circumspect, within,
Do They perceive no sprouts, or seeds, of Sin?
No wicked Wish—no dangerous Desire—
Lust, Pride, nor Passion, set their Souls on fire?
No crude conception breeding in their breast,
By Conscience, or by Reason, unrepress'd;
Which, should it boldly ripen into birth,
Would cause confusion in this hapless Earth?
Has Lust ne'er propagated some lewd plan,
To ruin Woman, or to injure Man?
No swelling Pride, or struggling Passion, strove
To raise rebellion 'gainst the God of Love?
Is every Lust so lastingly eras'd
That moral Character's no whit disgrac'd?
Are impious Pride, and Passion, so subdued
They ne'er in acts can rise, or words be rude,
But all become by Revelation's rules,
Religion's noblest tests and happiest tools?
Does grace guide all in strict obedience, still,
To that bless'd Being's ever-holy Will;
Loving the Lord their God, throughout Life's Length,
With all their Heart? and Mind? and Soul? and Strength?
That Love express'd in prayer, and thanks, and praise,
His due, as Friend and Father, all their days?
With like discrimination damn themselves?
Has every Child of Pow'r, and Imp of Pelf,
Lov'd every Neighbour as it loves itself?
Will Pleasure's Daughters, Dissipation's Wives,
As nicely scrutinize their careless lives?
Will Folly's fashionable Sires, and Sons,
Engage their talents while Time's hour-glass runs?
Turn the same end of telescopic glass
And watch their faults, and foibles, while they pass?
Inspect their Souls with microscopic sight,
And read what Act was rash? what Habit right?
Dissect their hearts with diligence, and care,
To trace what words were foul, what wishes fair?
Their teeming motives accurately mind
And mark how each might influence all Mankind?
That none originate from wish, or will,
To work, with craft, one Fellow-creature's ill?
Doth ne'er one act, word, thought, or motive, tend
Tow'rds some pernicious or unfruitful end?
And, while thus peeping, circumspect, within,
Do They perceive no sprouts, or seeds, of Sin?
No wicked Wish—no dangerous Desire—
Lust, Pride, nor Passion, set their Souls on fire?
No crude conception breeding in their breast,
By Conscience, or by Reason, unrepress'd;
Which, should it boldly ripen into birth,
Would cause confusion in this hapless Earth?
Has Lust ne'er propagated some lewd plan,
To ruin Woman, or to injure Man?
No swelling Pride, or struggling Passion, strove
To raise rebellion 'gainst the God of Love?
Is every Lust so lastingly eras'd
That moral Character's no whit disgrac'd?
Are impious Pride, and Passion, so subdued
They ne'er in acts can rise, or words be rude,
But all become by Revelation's rules,
Religion's noblest tests and happiest tools?
Does grace guide all in strict obedience, still,
To that bless'd Being's ever-holy Will;
Loving the Lord their God, throughout Life's Length,
107
That Love express'd in prayer, and thanks, and praise,
His due, as Friend and Father, all their days?
Alas! all eyes too obviously behold
Their faithless manners form'd in different mould;
Their conduct shap'd on Pandemonium's plan,
Disguis'd, as Foes, alike, to God and Man!
Along the stream of time they idly roll,
Nor once reflect each Frame contains a Soul!
Each Vessel sailing, swift, on Seas of Lusts,
Borne on by billowy Pride, and Passion's gusts;
While Penury must submit to drudgeries due,
To furnish cargoes, feed, and clothe, each Crew;
Nor from their toil one moment's time be staid;
Yet meet chastisement still while duty's paid!
Their faithless manners form'd in different mould;
Their conduct shap'd on Pandemonium's plan,
Disguis'd, as Foes, alike, to God and Man!
Along the stream of time they idly roll,
Nor once reflect each Frame contains a Soul!
Each Vessel sailing, swift, on Seas of Lusts,
Borne on by billowy Pride, and Passion's gusts;
While Penury must submit to drudgeries due,
To furnish cargoes, feed, and clothe, each Crew;
Nor from their toil one moment's time be staid;
Yet meet chastisement still while duty's paid!
And will not wounded hearts, in pain, reply,
Tho' meek as Moses, with a sob, or sigh?
Will not Man's heav'n-lent Spirit seek relief,
From such distress, such pungent pain and grief?
And, boldly independent, stand aloof;
To spurn gross arrogance, and rash reproof?
Just, genuine Virtue's right-lined views enlarge?
Withstand low Spite's uncharitable charge?
Against Injustice and base Lies rebel,
And all a plotting Despot's arts repel?
Tho' meek as Moses, with a sob, or sigh?
Will not Man's heav'n-lent Spirit seek relief,
From such distress, such pungent pain and grief?
And, boldly independent, stand aloof;
To spurn gross arrogance, and rash reproof?
Just, genuine Virtue's right-lined views enlarge?
Withstand low Spite's uncharitable charge?
Against Injustice and base Lies rebel,
And all a plotting Despot's arts repel?
Can human heart suppress the sigh and groan;
Can human tongue maintain accustom'd tone,
Convuls'd with Anger's vellicating strokes,
While Spite applies her salt and acid jokes?
While base Design, with aggravating pain,
Tears every fibre of the frame in twain?
While countless proofs prove clear to Common Sense
The heart's affliction and the head's offence?
Can human tongue maintain accustom'd tone,
Convuls'd with Anger's vellicating strokes,
While Spite applies her salt and acid jokes?
While base Design, with aggravating pain,
Tears every fibre of the frame in twain?
While countless proofs prove clear to Common Sense
The heart's affliction and the head's offence?
Should conscientious Truth still silent sit,
While Falshood tries to make more fetters fit?
Ought Honesty hold up a patient hand
While Cruelty imprints her burning brand?
A Christian's faithful Soul, thro' dread of strife,
Relinquish every privilege of Life?
Implicitly subscribe condemning debts,
Penn'd down by Passion in her desperate pets?
Indorse blank drafts Injustice dares indite,
Nor e'er make bold to state each balance right?
Permit base lies and libels to upbraid,
For debts and obligations, doubly paid?
Let Pride, for favours past, still fume, and flout,
By drops of bosom blood long blotted out!
While supererogatory items, stand,
A list, much larger, on the dexter hand!
While Falshood tries to make more fetters fit?
Ought Honesty hold up a patient hand
While Cruelty imprints her burning brand?
A Christian's faithful Soul, thro' dread of strife,
Relinquish every privilege of Life?
Implicitly subscribe condemning debts,
Penn'd down by Passion in her desperate pets?
Indorse blank drafts Injustice dares indite,
Nor e'er make bold to state each balance right?
Permit base lies and libels to upbraid,
For debts and obligations, doubly paid?
Let Pride, for favours past, still fume, and flout,
By drops of bosom blood long blotted out!
While supererogatory items, stand,
A list, much larger, on the dexter hand!
Can Justice clearly solve the doubtful suit,
While Merit's dash'd, and Modesty stands mute?
While Selfishness obtrudes her sordid claim?
While Truth's abash'd, and shuns the public shame?
While Wealth's bold Pow'r, with Prejudice combines,
To plan the punishment, and fix the fines?
But upright Advocates will scout the plea,
When counter-depositions disagree;
And point out every proof, and truth, distinct,
Tho' Juries waver'd, and tho' Judges' wink't.
While Merit's dash'd, and Modesty stands mute?
While Selfishness obtrudes her sordid claim?
While Truth's abash'd, and shuns the public shame?
While Wealth's bold Pow'r, with Prejudice combines,
To plan the punishment, and fix the fines?
But upright Advocates will scout the plea,
When counter-depositions disagree;
And point out every proof, and truth, distinct,
Tho' Juries waver'd, and tho' Judges' wink't.
God's word proclaims, in His unerring plan,
Chastising checks await poor, pecant, Man.
That Tribulation's tryal all attends,
Whom He adopts as Children and as Friends.
That Happiness's path, and Grace's gate,
Are steep, and narrow; difficult, and strait.
When left cheek's smitten by Caprice, or Spite,
In humble patience bids to turn the right.
Thwart not Contentious Spirits, nor provoke,
But when Force takes the coat, to give the cloak—
When to go one mile Tyrant's calls constrain,
In mute humility to travel twain.
Chastising checks await poor, pecant, Man.
That Tribulation's tryal all attends,
Whom He adopts as Children and as Friends.
That Happiness's path, and Grace's gate,
Are steep, and narrow; difficult, and strait.
When left cheek's smitten by Caprice, or Spite,
In humble patience bids to turn the right.
Thwart not Contentious Spirits, nor provoke,
But when Force takes the coat, to give the cloak—
When to go one mile Tyrant's calls constrain,
In mute humility to travel twain.
Such humbling precepts, Heav'n, in mercy, meant
Curs'd Pride to combat, and promote content.
To spread mild meekness o'er the humbled breast,
And yield both heart and head most heavenly rest!
Curs'd Pride to combat, and promote content.
To spread mild meekness o'er the humbled breast,
And yield both heart and head most heavenly rest!
Imperious Pride may deviate or delay,
And Passion turn prudentish steps astray;
But false Abasement needs not block the road,
To fright weak Faith from Heavenly, blest, abode.
Mischievous Man will Man each day disturb,
But Christ alone can rightly scourge, or curb;
Nor need Man stoop to every Tyrant's whim;
But wholesome castigation sent from Him!
Not cringe or crouch, by Fellow's claim confin'd
To pains and miseries of a prison'd Mind;
Nor strive and struggle in a cribbing path,
Frail Fortune's tool—the Wretch of human wrath!
Not slavishly to suffer—pine—and die—
Nor rashly to resist—but freely fly.
True Self-denial turns no Virtue back,
Nor makes supreme, or social, Duty, slack;
Yet needs not kiss the cross—revere the rod,
That graceless Man inflicts, but Father, God!
And Passion turn prudentish steps astray;
But false Abasement needs not block the road,
To fright weak Faith from Heavenly, blest, abode.
Mischievous Man will Man each day disturb,
But Christ alone can rightly scourge, or curb;
Nor need Man stoop to every Tyrant's whim;
But wholesome castigation sent from Him!
Not cringe or crouch, by Fellow's claim confin'd
To pains and miseries of a prison'd Mind;
Nor strive and struggle in a cribbing path,
Frail Fortune's tool—the Wretch of human wrath!
Not slavishly to suffer—pine—and die—
Nor rashly to resist—but freely fly.
True Self-denial turns no Virtue back,
108
Yet needs not kiss the cross—revere the rod,
That graceless Man inflicts, but Father, God!
When Christianity, at first, arose,
Encompast with a World of powerful Foes,
Confronting calumny, and suffering scorn,
A Babe, among wild Beasts, in Cities, born;
She fear'd to struggle, in her infant state,
When each fell Tyrant's word was wing'd with fate;
But check'd her feeble hand—restrain'd her tongue—
While Wickedness was old, and She was young—
When every Potentate, and Priest, around,
Endeavour'd to destroy, or wish'd to wound—
When Prophets and Apostles hid their head,
And pure Evangelists and Prophets fled—
When brave Professors forfeited their breath,
And rash resistance expedited death.
When all its trembling Votaries vainly strove
To recommend its truths by Peace and Love.
When Wisdom, pure, and Grace, with Pow'r supreme,
Alone could execute the heavenly Scheme.
When only miracles and signs, sublime,
Could sanction Doctrines, and encounter Crime—
Could conquer Sinners' hearts—could Demons quell,
And gain full victory o'er the gates of Hell—
When strength celestial stooped to mortal Might,
Such precepts, and such practices, were right.
When God was pleas'd to work, by secret ways,
His Son's eternal throne, on Earth, to raise;
Justice then slumber'd—Pow'r, apparent, slept—
Tho' Martyrs bled, and all the Faithful wept—
But now to greater strength and stature grown,
She fills the Senate, and supplies the Throne—
Kings become Fathers, or professing Brothers,
And mighty Queens proclaim'd Her nursing Mothers—
While Princes prostrate fall before her feet—
And Nobles occupy her Judgment-seat—
Now Heav'n's pure Spirit's offer'd free to all,
And none, inferior, Fellow-Christian's call.
None, now, with Fellow-man may strive, nor strike,
For all Mankind, by Christ, are call'd, alike—
Bodies all form'd alike from earthly clod,
And reasoning Spirits all inspir'd by God—
Like innate Appetites, Pride, Passions, fire—
All fall'n, alike, with one, unfaithful Sire—
And all alike mixt up with mortal leav'n,
Alike the Heirs of Sin, of Hell, or Heav'n!
Encompast with a World of powerful Foes,
Confronting calumny, and suffering scorn,
A Babe, among wild Beasts, in Cities, born;
She fear'd to struggle, in her infant state,
When each fell Tyrant's word was wing'd with fate;
But check'd her feeble hand—restrain'd her tongue—
While Wickedness was old, and She was young—
When every Potentate, and Priest, around,
Endeavour'd to destroy, or wish'd to wound—
When Prophets and Apostles hid their head,
And pure Evangelists and Prophets fled—
When brave Professors forfeited their breath,
And rash resistance expedited death.
When all its trembling Votaries vainly strove
To recommend its truths by Peace and Love.
When Wisdom, pure, and Grace, with Pow'r supreme,
Alone could execute the heavenly Scheme.
When only miracles and signs, sublime,
Could sanction Doctrines, and encounter Crime—
Could conquer Sinners' hearts—could Demons quell,
And gain full victory o'er the gates of Hell—
When strength celestial stooped to mortal Might,
Such precepts, and such practices, were right.
When God was pleas'd to work, by secret ways,
His Son's eternal throne, on Earth, to raise;
Justice then slumber'd—Pow'r, apparent, slept—
Tho' Martyrs bled, and all the Faithful wept—
But now to greater strength and stature grown,
She fills the Senate, and supplies the Throne—
Kings become Fathers, or professing Brothers,
And mighty Queens proclaim'd Her nursing Mothers—
While Princes prostrate fall before her feet—
And Nobles occupy her Judgment-seat—
Now Heav'n's pure Spirit's offer'd free to all,
And none, inferior, Fellow-Christian's call.
None, now, with Fellow-man may strive, nor strike,
For all Mankind, by Christ, are call'd, alike—
Bodies all form'd alike from earthly clod,
And reasoning Spirits all inspir'd by God—
Like innate Appetites, Pride, Passions, fire—
All fall'n, alike, with one, unfaithful Sire—
And all alike mixt up with mortal leav'n,
Alike the Heirs of Sin, of Hell, or Heav'n!
Who, then, the same, in Body and in Soul,
Shall now usurp, o'er others, stern controul?
Shall poor Professors rights and dues disclaim?
Among all genuine Christians just the same.
Shall they now stoop to arbitrary Pow'r,
Whose Wants—Time—Talents—Strength—would all devour?
Resist not Riches, Pomp, or titled Pride,
Which dare to set their dues, and rights, aside?
Obey the tyrant nods of boastful Birth,
Devoid of Knowledge—Learning—Wit—or Worth;
Because Heav'n's Lord, in Wisdom, and in Love,
Hath cast Wealth's lot below, and Want's above?
Bow down to sovereign Sceptre—Princely plume—
Because His Providence thus fix'd their doom,
While exercising full their frantic sway,
To make Men's liberties, and lives, a prey?
To Fellow-fall'n implicitly submit,
The Dupes of Despots in each selfish fit?
Forego, for cruel Tyrants, Grace, and Truth,
To please proud Males, or Females? Age, or Youth?
Let all Her dearest lessons dormant lie,
Because some courtly Fools, or Fops, are by;
And forfeit Reason's claims, and Common-Sense,
To 'scape the force of Profligates' offence?
Justice be deaf, and dumb, as well as blind?
Her sword and balance basely slung behind?
Ne'er stigmatize with pencil, tongue, or pen,
The worst of Women, or the worst of Men?
Her Laws dead letters—all her trusts betray'd—
Each moral compact social Man has made;
While Reason's aid, and Revelation's end,
To Bigotry, and Superstition, bend?
Shall Christians Liberty and rights resign,
And still with tameness weep? with patience pine?
All frantic force, and persecuting scorn,
With coward cringe, and brutal stupor borne?
Indignity, and insult, still endure,
Nor seek alleviation, cause, or cure?
From all Earth's hopes, and privileges, hurl'd,
Because their Kingdom's not this nether World?
Shall now usurp, o'er others, stern controul?
Shall poor Professors rights and dues disclaim?
Among all genuine Christians just the same.
Shall they now stoop to arbitrary Pow'r,
Whose Wants—Time—Talents—Strength—would all devour?
Resist not Riches, Pomp, or titled Pride,
Which dare to set their dues, and rights, aside?
Obey the tyrant nods of boastful Birth,
Devoid of Knowledge—Learning—Wit—or Worth;
Because Heav'n's Lord, in Wisdom, and in Love,
Hath cast Wealth's lot below, and Want's above?
Bow down to sovereign Sceptre—Princely plume—
Because His Providence thus fix'd their doom,
While exercising full their frantic sway,
To make Men's liberties, and lives, a prey?
To Fellow-fall'n implicitly submit,
The Dupes of Despots in each selfish fit?
Forego, for cruel Tyrants, Grace, and Truth,
To please proud Males, or Females? Age, or Youth?
Let all Her dearest lessons dormant lie,
Because some courtly Fools, or Fops, are by;
And forfeit Reason's claims, and Common-Sense,
To 'scape the force of Profligates' offence?
Justice be deaf, and dumb, as well as blind?
Her sword and balance basely slung behind?
Ne'er stigmatize with pencil, tongue, or pen,
The worst of Women, or the worst of Men?
Her Laws dead letters—all her trusts betray'd—
Each moral compact social Man has made;
While Reason's aid, and Revelation's end,
To Bigotry, and Superstition, bend?
Shall Christians Liberty and rights resign,
And still with tameness weep? with patience pine?
All frantic force, and persecuting scorn,
With coward cringe, and brutal stupor borne?
Indignity, and insult, still endure,
Nor seek alleviation, cause, or cure?
From all Earth's hopes, and privileges, hurl'd,
Because their Kingdom's not this nether World?
Justice, and heavenly Truth, stands Penury's right,
As much as Emperor's—King's—and Men's of might;
For all who enter Christ's impartial School,
Must humbly yield to one eternal rule,
Who lays, alike, on Sinners, and on Saints,
The same reciprocal, and strong, restraints;
Commanding Kings, and Clowns, and all betwixt,
However muster'd, or however mix'd;
“See that ye, simply, to all others, do
What ye would have all others do to you.”
As much as Emperor's—King's—and Men's of might;
For all who enter Christ's impartial School,
109
Who lays, alike, on Sinners, and on Saints,
The same reciprocal, and strong, restraints;
Commanding Kings, and Clowns, and all betwixt,
However muster'd, or however mix'd;
“See that ye, simply, to all others, do
What ye would have all others do to you.”
All pow'r's of God! and every Soul on Earth
From Him derives an equal right at birth;
And all Usurpers, who presume to bind
Another's Frame, or faculties of Mind.
No Pow'r but that which gave him Life and Pow'r
Can justly claim one talent, limb, or hour.
Can truly call him Subject—Servant—Slave—
Controul his will, or doom him to the grave;
Except some bond, or mutual compact's broke,
By which he bows himself to bear the yoke—
Some wilful act of murder, theft, or strife,
To forfeit freedom, property, or life;
Or other breach of moral rules be found,
By which time, faculties, and strength were bound.
No Mortal may another's rights command,
Whate'er his Office, Wisdom, Wealth, or Land.
No King can claim till People rights resign,
However Dupes may deem His right divine—
To rule Man's will; to exercise the rod;
Or life infringe, belongs, alone, to God!
All else who aim to conquer, or compel,
Derive their false prerogatives from Hell!
Usurp a spurious pow'r, by falshood built,
Which, practised, must incur most grievous guilt;
And Christ will try them at the close of Time,
And deem them curs'd for such a devilish crime!
From Him derives an equal right at birth;
And all Usurpers, who presume to bind
Another's Frame, or faculties of Mind.
No Pow'r but that which gave him Life and Pow'r
Can justly claim one talent, limb, or hour.
Can truly call him Subject—Servant—Slave—
Controul his will, or doom him to the grave;
Except some bond, or mutual compact's broke,
By which he bows himself to bear the yoke—
Some wilful act of murder, theft, or strife,
To forfeit freedom, property, or life;
Or other breach of moral rules be found,
By which time, faculties, and strength were bound.
No Mortal may another's rights command,
Whate'er his Office, Wisdom, Wealth, or Land.
No King can claim till People rights resign,
However Dupes may deem His right divine—
To rule Man's will; to exercise the rod;
Or life infringe, belongs, alone, to God!
All else who aim to conquer, or compel,
Derive their false prerogatives from Hell!
Usurp a spurious pow'r, by falshood built,
Which, practised, must incur most grievous guilt;
And Christ will try them at the close of Time,
And deem them curs'd for such a devilish crime!
Kings are but Creatures, ruling years, or hours,
And draw, from Equals, but deputed pow'rs—
All temporal Magistrates the Mass appoints;
Not graceless Novices that Heav'n anoints.
Tho' every Government from God begins;
He ne'er by Providence can sanction sins.
No Fiends on thrones by His high suffrage set,
Peace to destroy, and ruin Realms with debt—
Not making Peers, more pow'r, or gold, to gain,
Or seek their pleasures through their Subjects' pain.
Not yearly to enlarge their civil List,
And hampering Statutes, by the people hiss'd.
For fresh corruptions to enact new clause,
In penal pacts, or nummulary Laws—
To punish, or imprison, weaker Wight,
Who dares to speak what's reason, act what's right.
Still turning round the pence Inferiors pay
For courtly Fools, who flatter, and betray.
Not filling Treasuries with a wealthy flood,
From Labour drawn, by drops of sweat and blood;
Nor o'er that mass of Riches mirth enjoy,
Which fifty thousand Slaves can scarce supply,
Throughout each Year, with labouring heads and hands,
In Arts, or Trades, or Toils in culturing Lands.
Not ruling nations with tyrannic nods,
Nor claiming glory like their sov'reign God's
But more like His who fills infernal Throne;
And dares to call Earth's kingdoms all his own!
And draw, from Equals, but deputed pow'rs—
All temporal Magistrates the Mass appoints;
Not graceless Novices that Heav'n anoints.
Tho' every Government from God begins;
He ne'er by Providence can sanction sins.
No Fiends on thrones by His high suffrage set,
Peace to destroy, and ruin Realms with debt—
Not making Peers, more pow'r, or gold, to gain,
Or seek their pleasures through their Subjects' pain.
Not yearly to enlarge their civil List,
And hampering Statutes, by the people hiss'd.
For fresh corruptions to enact new clause,
In penal pacts, or nummulary Laws—
To punish, or imprison, weaker Wight,
Who dares to speak what's reason, act what's right.
Still turning round the pence Inferiors pay
For courtly Fools, who flatter, and betray.
Not filling Treasuries with a wealthy flood,
From Labour drawn, by drops of sweat and blood;
Nor o'er that mass of Riches mirth enjoy,
Which fifty thousand Slaves can scarce supply,
Throughout each Year, with labouring heads and hands,
In Arts, or Trades, or Toils in culturing Lands.
Not ruling nations with tyrannic nods,
Nor claiming glory like their sov'reign God's
But more like His who fills infernal Throne;
And dares to call Earth's kingdoms all his own!
But where's the Despot who will dare attest
He claims a Kingdom, by Heaven's high behest?
Where is the head that holds the holy oil
Which gives a title to the Seas and Soil?
Where are the hands which Orb and Sceptre hold,
Bestow'd by God, with Mind of gracious mould?
Or where those temples that with terror shine
In sparkling Crown, put on by Pow'rs divine?
Who can celestial deputation show,
To reign and rule o'er subject Slaves below;
And proves that deputation stands full plea
To force their Sons to fight by Land or Sea?
Empow'r'd Descendants, on that Throne to place,
To rule, thro' every Age, an endless Race?
And tho' that Seat, rank Fools, or Scoundrels, fill,
Make Millions bow before their brutal Will.
He claims a Kingdom, by Heaven's high behest?
Where is the head that holds the holy oil
Which gives a title to the Seas and Soil?
Where are the hands which Orb and Sceptre hold,
Bestow'd by God, with Mind of gracious mould?
Or where those temples that with terror shine
In sparkling Crown, put on by Pow'rs divine?
Who can celestial deputation show,
To reign and rule o'er subject Slaves below;
And proves that deputation stands full plea
To force their Sons to fight by Land or Sea?
Empow'r'd Descendants, on that Throne to place,
To rule, thro' every Age, an endless Race?
And tho' that Seat, rank Fools, or Scoundrels, fill,
Make Millions bow before their brutal Will.
Should Christians thus the sacred Scriptures read,
And weakly crouch to such a servile Creed;
Should deem such Doctrine right, and just, and true,
Then, farewell Freedom! Justice, Truth, adieu!
Fair Freedom then must fly—pure Truth retire—
All Justice perish! Peace and Hope, expire!
And weakly crouch to such a servile Creed;
Should deem such Doctrine right, and just, and true,
Then, farewell Freedom! Justice, Truth, adieu!
Fair Freedom then must fly—pure Truth retire—
All Justice perish! Peace and Hope, expire!
But must Man Sense and Reason, both, resign?
Deem Demons—Brutes—or Ideots—divine?
See their own Understanding void of sight,
And think such Doctrines, such rash Dogmas, right?
Will not cool Reason—will not Common-sense,
Grant such Impostures give profound offence?
And may not humblest, meekest, Christian's Mind
Investigate the good of all Mankind?
Bring Truth and Justice to their Judgment's test,
And try, by Reason's balance what weighs best?
Their Saviour's doctrines, and clear sentence, trust,
Ordaining what is righteous; what is just;
And while they yield all mortal Men their due,
Maintain integrity in all that's true?
Ought not their simple, their unbiass'd Souls,
Enquire whence Magistrates derive Controuls;
And, with discriminations clear, and nice,
Declare that Virtue's Virtue, Vice is Vice?
With wise distinction, word, and action, trace
That springs from Nature, or that grows from Grace;
Pronouncing selfish Tyrant's Satan's Tools;
Kings crafty Foxes, Hypocrites, or Fools?
Sure they may ask whence Kings derive their dow'r,
From Christ's decree, or from the People's pow'r—
Whether their proud Prerogative was giv'n,
Thro' some pure Seraph, sent express from Heav'n,
Or by some compact, clearly understood
As meant to govern Men for mutual good—
But should an Angel Documents produce
To sanction Villainy, or vile Abuse,
Christians could ne'er surmise it made above,
Where all is Wisdom—Harmony—and Love;
But some base instrument from Fiends below,
To further Discord—Strife—and War—and Woe!
Deem Demons—Brutes—or Ideots—divine?
See their own Understanding void of sight,
And think such Doctrines, such rash Dogmas, right?
Will not cool Reason—will not Common-sense,
Grant such Impostures give profound offence?
And may not humblest, meekest, Christian's Mind
Investigate the good of all Mankind?
110
And try, by Reason's balance what weighs best?
Their Saviour's doctrines, and clear sentence, trust,
Ordaining what is righteous; what is just;
And while they yield all mortal Men their due,
Maintain integrity in all that's true?
Ought not their simple, their unbiass'd Souls,
Enquire whence Magistrates derive Controuls;
And, with discriminations clear, and nice,
Declare that Virtue's Virtue, Vice is Vice?
With wise distinction, word, and action, trace
That springs from Nature, or that grows from Grace;
Pronouncing selfish Tyrant's Satan's Tools;
Kings crafty Foxes, Hypocrites, or Fools?
Sure they may ask whence Kings derive their dow'r,
From Christ's decree, or from the People's pow'r—
Whether their proud Prerogative was giv'n,
Thro' some pure Seraph, sent express from Heav'n,
Or by some compact, clearly understood
As meant to govern Men for mutual good—
But should an Angel Documents produce
To sanction Villainy, or vile Abuse,
Christians could ne'er surmise it made above,
Where all is Wisdom—Harmony—and Love;
But some base instrument from Fiends below,
To further Discord—Strife—and War—and Woe!
If Kings can show no warrant from the Skies,
And Christians know few faithful, good, or wise,
How can their Conscience innocently act,
Themselves not parties in the mutual pact?
Must Revelation's literal meaning tell,
Whether each word, and act, is ill, or well?
How shall they reconcile the various things
There spoke of Priests, of Prophets, and of Kings?
Must not right Reason and clear Sense decide
Against all Hypocrites, and Sons of Pride?
Must they not Vice and Villainy condemn
With all the Knaves, in Pow'r, that practise them?
Must not their Spirits every Priest despise,
Whose Words are Truth but all their Lives are Lies?
Yea, every Prince, and Potentate, abhor,
Who practise fraud—oppression—wiles—and war?
Must they still stoop to every courtly Tool?
To every titled Fop, or scepter'd Fool?
With such Idolatry their Souls degrade,
Adoring devilish Gods that Man has made?
Implicitly obey each selfish pact,
That Misers, Profligates, and Pimps, enact?
In no one case the basest compact break,
Tho' every item's wicked, false, or weak?
Tho' Justice—Truth—or Heav'n's unerring Laws,
Or God's own Glory justify the Cause?
And Christians know few faithful, good, or wise,
How can their Conscience innocently act,
Themselves not parties in the mutual pact?
Must Revelation's literal meaning tell,
Whether each word, and act, is ill, or well?
How shall they reconcile the various things
There spoke of Priests, of Prophets, and of Kings?
Must not right Reason and clear Sense decide
Against all Hypocrites, and Sons of Pride?
Must they not Vice and Villainy condemn
With all the Knaves, in Pow'r, that practise them?
Must not their Spirits every Priest despise,
Whose Words are Truth but all their Lives are Lies?
Yea, every Prince, and Potentate, abhor,
Who practise fraud—oppression—wiles—and war?
Must they still stoop to every courtly Tool?
To every titled Fop, or scepter'd Fool?
With such Idolatry their Souls degrade,
Adoring devilish Gods that Man has made?
Implicitly obey each selfish pact,
That Misers, Profligates, and Pimps, enact?
In no one case the basest compact break,
Tho' every item's wicked, false, or weak?
Tho' Justice—Truth—or Heav'n's unerring Laws,
Or God's own Glory justify the Cause?
Shall Frantics, Dupes, or Despots, keep their place,
In every varying circumstance, and case?
Still, every Pow'r, and Privilege, maintain,
Tho' planning measures for mere private gain?
Tho' manufacturing misery, fraud, and strife,
And legalizing all the ills of Life?
In every varying circumstance, and case?
Still, every Pow'r, and Privilege, maintain,
Tho' planning measures for mere private gain?
Tho' manufacturing misery, fraud, and strife,
And legalizing all the ills of Life?
Shall they, appointed for the People's good,
Consume their property, and spill their blood?
And no resentment feel—remonstrance meet—
But hail such Savage on his tyrant Seat?
Feel no resistance, no coercion try,
To balk such stratagems, such bonds destroy?
Suffer fresh mischief, still, from Year to Year,
And still submit, obey, and fawn, and fear?
Why then did Courts, which could such Idols kiss,
For misdemeanours from their Thrones dismiss?
Or conscientious christian Priests refuse
To pay Superiors their establish'd dues?
Why did high Courtiers owning kingly claims,
Judge, and expel, the papal Bigot, James?
Or, Christian Priests, whilst giving Reason scope,
Deny the Pow'r, and Doctrines of the Pope?
At his false claims, and privileges, scoff,
And, finally, fling all his fetters off.
Consume their property, and spill their blood?
And no resentment feel—remonstrance meet—
But hail such Savage on his tyrant Seat?
Feel no resistance, no coercion try,
To balk such stratagems, such bonds destroy?
Suffer fresh mischief, still, from Year to Year,
And still submit, obey, and fawn, and fear?
Why then did Courts, which could such Idols kiss,
For misdemeanours from their Thrones dismiss?
Or conscientious christian Priests refuse
To pay Superiors their establish'd dues?
Why did high Courtiers owning kingly claims,
Judge, and expel, the papal Bigot, James?
Or, Christian Priests, whilst giving Reason scope,
Deny the Pow'r, and Doctrines of the Pope?
At his false claims, and privileges, scoff,
And, finally, fling all his fetters off.
Shall Christians, now, with Priests' proud claims comply,
And countenance King's crimes, of devilish dye?
Religion's liberties, and dues, disgrace,
And throw back Freedom in their Maker's face!
The common Sense of faithful Christians flout,
And puff Heav'n-lighted lamps of Reason, out!
Rather than thus be duped by despot Men,
Let Smithfield's gorey region smoke agen.
Forbid it, Heav'n! that christian Brethren, now,
Should to a Tyrant stoop—a Bigot bow!
That Friends, or Governors, like Fiends, should reign,
And Christians ne'er encounter? ne'er complain?
While all despotic Tyrants, copying them,
Push their worst Codes to punish or Condemn;
Till, Christian Order, into Chaos hurl'd,
Hell makes a prey of all the apostate World!
And countenance King's crimes, of devilish dye?
Religion's liberties, and dues, disgrace,
And throw back Freedom in their Maker's face!
The common Sense of faithful Christians flout,
And puff Heav'n-lighted lamps of Reason, out!
Rather than thus be duped by despot Men,
Let Smithfield's gorey region smoke agen.
Forbid it, Heav'n! that christian Brethren, now,
Should to a Tyrant stoop—a Bigot bow!
That Friends, or Governors, like Fiends, should reign,
And Christians ne'er encounter? ne'er complain?
While all despotic Tyrants, copying them,
Push their worst Codes to punish or Condemn;
111
Hell makes a prey of all the apostate World!
Whoe'er deserts the sacred cause of Truth,
From fear, from interest, or from natural ruth,
May that mistaken Creature's Conscience know
He's Conscience's—Man's—God's, most grievous Foe:
And all who will not with each talent strive,
To keep Faith—Truth—and Justice, still alive,
However bless'd, beyond Man's common brood,
With every graceful gift, and gracious good,
Are all with folly ting'd, and fleshly leav'n;
Most dangerous Enemies of Earth and Heav'n!
From fear, from interest, or from natural ruth,
May that mistaken Creature's Conscience know
He's Conscience's—Man's—God's, most grievous Foe:
And all who will not with each talent strive,
To keep Faith—Truth—and Justice, still alive,
However bless'd, beyond Man's common brood,
With every graceful gift, and gracious good,
Are all with folly ting'd, and fleshly leav'n;
Most dangerous Enemies of Earth and Heav'n!
Mistaken Man, when once a Despot's prey,
All goods, and chattels, soon, are swept away;
And Pride that wounds with words a feeling heart,
Would promptly scarify each outward part.
The Pow'r, uncheck'd, that strikes the Cheeks in strife,
Devoid of danger, would purloin the Life—
That Fraud, or Force, which Coat, and Cloak, will take,
Would spare no covering rag for Conscience's sake—
And grim Oppression, that, thus, grasps the whole,
Would feel no kind Compassion for the Soul!
In vain were Want's petition—Woe's complaint—
When slumbering Conscience quits her strong restraint.
When sacred Truth, implicitly, complies,
And sanctions, with her silence, Cunning's lies;
Or, carelessly confirms, with witless word,
Falshood's assertions, foolish, or absurd;
And, with mere breezes of unmeaning breath;
Signs the dread sentence of her temporal death;
While knavish Villainy with vicious aim,
Will, thence encourag'd, stablish bolder claim,
When dire Injustice pleads one Mile's his due,
And simple Man submits to travel two,
The selfish Scoundrel soon would claim a score;
Yea—make tame Christians trudge the World all o'er!
All goods, and chattels, soon, are swept away;
And Pride that wounds with words a feeling heart,
Would promptly scarify each outward part.
The Pow'r, uncheck'd, that strikes the Cheeks in strife,
Devoid of danger, would purloin the Life—
That Fraud, or Force, which Coat, and Cloak, will take,
Would spare no covering rag for Conscience's sake—
And grim Oppression, that, thus, grasps the whole,
Would feel no kind Compassion for the Soul!
In vain were Want's petition—Woe's complaint—
When slumbering Conscience quits her strong restraint.
When sacred Truth, implicitly, complies,
And sanctions, with her silence, Cunning's lies;
Or, carelessly confirms, with witless word,
Falshood's assertions, foolish, or absurd;
And, with mere breezes of unmeaning breath;
Signs the dread sentence of her temporal death;
While knavish Villainy with vicious aim,
Will, thence encourag'd, stablish bolder claim,
When dire Injustice pleads one Mile's his due,
And simple Man submits to travel two,
The selfish Scoundrel soon would claim a score;
Yea—make tame Christians trudge the World all o'er!
Heav'n meant no Mortal's tryal so severe—
The unresisting Tool of Tyrants, here—
Suffering each arbitrary Hand to strip,
And bend his back to every waling whip—
No—Paul, himself, could plead for full relief,
Against the Threats of churlish Roman Chief;
And, when imprison'd, like a Hero stout,
Commands the Magistrates to take him out.
The wandering Wretch thus left without resource,
Becomes the constant Dupe of Fraud, or Force;
An engine, mov'd at each weak Despot's will—
A sacrifice to fleece—or scourge—or kill—
His moving, labo'ring, strength, alone, remains,
To toil for churls, while clogg'd with galling chains;
For, Freedom gone, he, like a Galley-Slave,
Tugs oars, thro' Life, then drops into the grave!
The unresisting Tool of Tyrants, here—
Suffering each arbitrary Hand to strip,
And bend his back to every waling whip—
No—Paul, himself, could plead for full relief,
Against the Threats of churlish Roman Chief;
And, when imprison'd, like a Hero stout,
Commands the Magistrates to take him out.
The wandering Wretch thus left without resource,
Becomes the constant Dupe of Fraud, or Force;
An engine, mov'd at each weak Despot's will—
A sacrifice to fleece—or scourge—or kill—
His moving, labo'ring, strength, alone, remains,
To toil for churls, while clogg'd with galling chains;
For, Freedom gone, he, like a Galley-Slave,
Tugs oars, thro' Life, then drops into the grave!
Could such a Creature shine without alloy,
Love's perfect Pattern; copied from the Sky;
In path of duty could, like Enoch, plod,
And walk, thro' Life, in faith and love, with God,
He must, like him, and all blest Saints below,
Experience, from the Wicked, pain and woe;
Till, bless'd with Enoch's beatific lot,
His God had taken him, and he was not;
Or, like Elijah, persecuted, still,
By arbitrary Tyrant's wicked will,
Join the blest Twain—walking by Heav'n's word,
Till God, in mercy, might translate a Third.
Could he, like Christ fulfil his Father's Law,
Without a fracture, and without a flaw,
Such pure fulfilment would no pity find
Among the murderous Race of carnal kind.
Malice would most such character deride—
Pow'r still would spurn; and Wealth, and Pomp, and Pride.
Such Mortals must each courtly scoff sustain—
Such Piety must meet Pride's deep disdain—
Bear Spite's foul spittings—Envy's vengeful scorns—
Feel Cruelty's fell thongs, and Hatred's thorns—
While Superstition's troops, when standing by,
Would join blaspheming Bigots' cruel cry.
Justice, itself, blest attribute of Heav'n!
Tho' purg'd, and purified from earthly leav'n;
Traduced, and trodden down, like Mercy, here,
Can only flourish in celestial sphere;
Where both, by genuine Love, eternal, join'd,
Compose the essence of Almighty Mind;
Like Bride and Bridegroom, by the Spirit's band,
In endless Marriage joining hand in hand;
There just Jehovah, and pure Paraclete,
In mystic junction pardoning Jesus meet,
To form Earth's happiest, Heav'n's completest, plan,
Uniting perfect God and perfect Man!
Love's perfect Pattern; copied from the Sky;
In path of duty could, like Enoch, plod,
And walk, thro' Life, in faith and love, with God,
He must, like him, and all blest Saints below,
Experience, from the Wicked, pain and woe;
Till, bless'd with Enoch's beatific lot,
His God had taken him, and he was not;
Or, like Elijah, persecuted, still,
By arbitrary Tyrant's wicked will,
Join the blest Twain—walking by Heav'n's word,
Till God, in mercy, might translate a Third.
Could he, like Christ fulfil his Father's Law,
Without a fracture, and without a flaw,
Such pure fulfilment would no pity find
Among the murderous Race of carnal kind.
Malice would most such character deride—
Pow'r still would spurn; and Wealth, and Pomp, and Pride.
Such Mortals must each courtly scoff sustain—
Such Piety must meet Pride's deep disdain—
Bear Spite's foul spittings—Envy's vengeful scorns—
Feel Cruelty's fell thongs, and Hatred's thorns—
While Superstition's troops, when standing by,
Would join blaspheming Bigots' cruel cry.
Justice, itself, blest attribute of Heav'n!
Tho' purg'd, and purified from earthly leav'n;
Traduced, and trodden down, like Mercy, here,
Can only flourish in celestial sphere;
Where both, by genuine Love, eternal, join'd,
Compose the essence of Almighty Mind;
Like Bride and Bridegroom, by the Spirit's band,
In endless Marriage joining hand in hand;
There just Jehovah, and pure Paraclete,
In mystic junction pardoning Jesus meet,
To form Earth's happiest, Heav'n's completest, plan,
Uniting perfect God and perfect Man!
Such was the human Soul, while Adam stood,
When God pronounc'd all Nature “Very good!”
And such the Soul of Woman, after, made,
Till Flattery fawn'd, and Falshood Truth betray'd;
When, with Satanic poison, enter'd in
Remorse, and Shame, and each sad curse of Sin!
This cost of Culprit's Heav'n's ingrafted Grace,
To death condemning all Man's guilty Race,
Each suffering, since, inevitable doom
Of cold corruption, laid in loathsome tomb!
But Christ, the Soul of sinful Man to save,
Redeem His Body from the gloomy grave,
And, righteous Judgment's rigid course controul,
To nameless misery stoop'd His spotless Soul!
Paid all the Debt incurr'd by Pride, and Lust!
A just Redeemer, rescuing Man, unjust!
Bent down His back to cruel smiters, bare!
Expos'd His cheeks to Imps who pluckt the hair!
His injur'd shoulders, Rebels' burdens bore!
His stripes heal'd each Believer's sinful sore!
The faults and frailties of His foes bemoan'd!
O'er all their miseries wept—and griev'd—and groan'd!
While from His body, in a purple flood,
Ooz'd agonizing drops of blameless blood!
More precious than the oil, of savoury smell,
That over Aaron's fragrant garments fell!
In pity for His Murderers pray'd, and died,
A Victim to vile Envy, Spite, and Pride!
Man—prostrate fall—and press thy parent, Earth,
When God pronounc'd all Nature “Very good!”
And such the Soul of Woman, after, made,
112
When, with Satanic poison, enter'd in
Remorse, and Shame, and each sad curse of Sin!
This cost of Culprit's Heav'n's ingrafted Grace,
To death condemning all Man's guilty Race,
Each suffering, since, inevitable doom
Of cold corruption, laid in loathsome tomb!
But Christ, the Soul of sinful Man to save,
Redeem His Body from the gloomy grave,
And, righteous Judgment's rigid course controul,
To nameless misery stoop'd His spotless Soul!
Paid all the Debt incurr'd by Pride, and Lust!
A just Redeemer, rescuing Man, unjust!
Bent down His back to cruel smiters, bare!
Expos'd His cheeks to Imps who pluckt the hair!
His injur'd shoulders, Rebels' burdens bore!
His stripes heal'd each Believer's sinful sore!
The faults and frailties of His foes bemoan'd!
O'er all their miseries wept—and griev'd—and groan'd!
While from His body, in a purple flood,
Ooz'd agonizing drops of blameless blood!
More precious than the oil, of savoury smell,
That over Aaron's fragrant garments fell!
In pity for His Murderers pray'd, and died,
A Victim to vile Envy, Spite, and Pride!
Before that Pow'r which gave thy Being birth,
In reverence most profound! all Self resign'd,
All pow'r's and faculties of Frame and Mind!
While boundless and sublime conceptions rise,
Of Him who built, and bless'd, both Earth, and Skies!
Forgive, dear Saviour! while thy Creature dares
Compare Thy pangs to Crispin's pains and cares!
While Man presumes to bare a Sinner's breast,
And trace thy mangled image there impress'd!
Presumes to find some faint resemblance strike!
Presumes to say a Point, and Space are like!
To match a Moment with Eternity,
Or dream a Mortal may compare with Thee!
No Pow'r but Thine could ever hope to quell
A warring World allied with Hosts of Hell!
No other Goodness, and no other Grace,
Could ransom, and reform, a ruin'd Race!
None but thy matchless Wisdom—boundless Might—
Could frame the measure, and enforce the fight!
No other Satisfaction save one Foe,
One daring Rebel from unending Woe!
None but Thy matchless Merit—deathless Love—
E'er purchase and prepare those Realms above,
Where Man, redeem'd by Jesus, may enjoy
Life, without limit—bliss, without alloy!
While no mere Man might Worth or Merit boast,
Nor one pure Spirit in the heavenly Host—
Nor Demons, damn'd, nor Mankind's blood all spilt,
Could cleanse one Sinner from one stain of guilt!
No worth of Worlds; no Seraph's strength, sustain,
The Wrath of Heav'n—its penalties and pain!
Much less lost Man one Merit plead with God,
To claim reward, or 'scape His fatal rod.
The Heirs of Heav'n may, here, true raptures taste,
The first-fruits of their future rich repast;
Yet every sinful Soul, must prove, in part,
Their Saviour's wants and sorrows, shame and smart—
Sharp stripes and piercings, with Heav'n's mercies mixt,
All must experience till their fate be fixt'
None, here, are purg'd and pure from fleshly sins,
Till Death be past, and perfect bliss begins—
But woe to them, provoking Pow'r, immense!
Who give God's little Children foul offence;
'Twere better their base necks a millstone bore,
Plung'd in deep seas amidst wild billows roar!
O Ye, who proudly boast your large domains,
Mines, Manors, Mansions, Fields, Floods, Woods, and Plains!
Shall each possession pine, with murmurs fill'd,
Or sigh and sob o'er peaceful comforts kill'd?
Your boasted boundaries, and your manor'd miles,
Ne'er sound with song? ne'er find one face that smiles?
Your woods in melancholy scarfs appear,
And echo wretchedness throughout the year;
While every dreary, dark, and dismal mine,
With woe, pain, penury, and sickness, pine?
Shall deep despondence frown o'er plain and field?
No gladdening gleam vile huts of vassals yield?
While all your streams with Misery's founts o'erflow,
Rais'd with fresh rills of tears each rood they go;
And tales of pain to parent ocean, tell,
Whence came those flooding show'rs and why they fell!
113
INVOCATION.
Oh! all ye rural Nymphs, and rustic Swains,
Who work, and wander, on your native plains,
Leave not, oh! leave not your sequester'd homes,
To look for more delight in Grandeur's domes!
Seek not, from frail Caprice's casual smiles,
To lighten troubles, and relax your toils;
Nor fancy you shall find in Pomp's domains,
Augmented pleasures, or diminish'd pains!
Expect not Friends where Wit with Flattery's found,
Nor hope true Wealth where Riches most abound!
Look not for Comfort, much less mental Joy,
Where Vanity and Ostentation ply;
Nor ever deem calm blessings can abide
In the wild Mansions of mad Pomp and Pride!
With trembling, tread not near a Despot's throne,
But call your dwellings and your days your own!
Yet hope not Peace, and Happiness, complete,
Ev'n in your tranquil, innocent, retreat;
But in the noblest sublunary site,
Miseries mix more with every dear delight!
Then hope them least beneath despotic sway,
Where Tyrants rule, and Sycophants betray—
Hope them, alone, where they alone are found,
In friendly fellowship, on gracious ground;
Where, constantly, with Christ, Believers dwell,
In cordial corps, or solitary cell;
With daily Duty to their sacred Sire,
For Heav'n's pure perquisites, their hourly hire!
Who work, and wander, on your native plains,
Leave not, oh! leave not your sequester'd homes,
To look for more delight in Grandeur's domes!
Seek not, from frail Caprice's casual smiles,
To lighten troubles, and relax your toils;
Nor fancy you shall find in Pomp's domains,
Augmented pleasures, or diminish'd pains!
Expect not Friends where Wit with Flattery's found,
Nor hope true Wealth where Riches most abound!
Look not for Comfort, much less mental Joy,
Where Vanity and Ostentation ply;
Nor ever deem calm blessings can abide
In the wild Mansions of mad Pomp and Pride!
With trembling, tread not near a Despot's throne,
But call your dwellings and your days your own!
Yet hope not Peace, and Happiness, complete,
Ev'n in your tranquil, innocent, retreat;
But in the noblest sublunary site,
Miseries mix more with every dear delight!
Then hope them least beneath despotic sway,
Where Tyrants rule, and Sycophants betray—
Hope them, alone, where they alone are found,
In friendly fellowship, on gracious ground;
Where, constantly, with Christ, Believers dwell,
In cordial corps, or solitary cell;
With daily Duty to their sacred Sire,
For Heav'n's pure perquisites, their hourly hire!
The faithful Tale of one who felt, attend;
Simplicity's true Lover! Freedom's Friend!
Who wish'd to help the halt—to lead the blind—
Who warmly lov'd, and sigh'd to serve, Mankind!
Who could rejoice with joy—could weep with woe—
Could pray, with ardour, for the fiercest Foe—
And only long'd for pow'r, and pray'd for store,
To foster Friends, and help the hapless Poor!
Felt like emotions loftier Mortals feel,
From stimulating lash, or stabbing steel.
From lacerating lancet's smallest smart,
Or poison'd poniard, thrust thro' head and heart.
From pointed pistol, and from levell'd lance,
Or slightly wounding shaft when shot by chance.
When straws were meant to tickle, not to teize,
Or snuff was giv'n to pain, but not to please.
When feathers were applied to spoil repose,
Or gossamers, unmeant, just thrill'd the nose.
When horrid glare, the Heart, like lightning, shrunk,
Or warlike words, the Soul, like thunder, sunk—
When Falshood feign'd, by signs, or sounds, uncouth,
To personate her simple Sister, Truth;
Smil'd, lisp'd, or ambled, deckt in dark disguise,
Stammering pretence, and leer'd with paltry lies,
While antic attitudes, which gave disgust,
Destroy'd the present; dampt all future trust;
Or sweet Sincerity with smoother smile,
Each service soften'd, and repaid each toil;
Each warm expression felt, and tender deed,
Which light Love's lamp, and kindled Friendship's feed!
Simplicity's true Lover! Freedom's Friend!
Who wish'd to help the halt—to lead the blind—
Who warmly lov'd, and sigh'd to serve, Mankind!
Who could rejoice with joy—could weep with woe—
Could pray, with ardour, for the fiercest Foe—
And only long'd for pow'r, and pray'd for store,
To foster Friends, and help the hapless Poor!
Felt like emotions loftier Mortals feel,
From stimulating lash, or stabbing steel.
From lacerating lancet's smallest smart,
Or poison'd poniard, thrust thro' head and heart.
From pointed pistol, and from levell'd lance,
Or slightly wounding shaft when shot by chance.
When straws were meant to tickle, not to teize,
Or snuff was giv'n to pain, but not to please.
When feathers were applied to spoil repose,
Or gossamers, unmeant, just thrill'd the nose.
When horrid glare, the Heart, like lightning, shrunk,
Or warlike words, the Soul, like thunder, sunk—
When Falshood feign'd, by signs, or sounds, uncouth,
To personate her simple Sister, Truth;
Smil'd, lisp'd, or ambled, deckt in dark disguise,
Stammering pretence, and leer'd with paltry lies,
While antic attitudes, which gave disgust,
Destroy'd the present; dampt all future trust;
Or sweet Sincerity with smoother smile,
Each service soften'd, and repaid each toil;
Each warm expression felt, and tender deed,
Which light Love's lamp, and kindled Friendship's feed!
Ah! gentle Spirits! innocently gay!
Who labour—laugh—sing—dance—the live-long Day,
Whose rising rays behold your joys begun
And evening twilight sees each duty done!
When Eve's calm hours, hymns, pray'rs, and praises, close,
And weariness and prudence wish repose—
Whose Night's afford soft dreams, or softer sleep,
While servile Vassals wake to watch, or weep!
Ah! let not baseless Hope, or bladdery Pride,
With dim delusion tempt your steps aside;
To sacrifice glad Freedom's gracious dow'r,
Or place your peace in reach of despot Pow'r!
Oh! forfeit not your franchise-boon of Birth!
By owning Mortals Masters, here, on Earth!
Learn every virtuous privilege to prize,
The feeborn use of limbs, tongues, ears, and eyes!
Who labour—laugh—sing—dance—the live-long Day,
Whose rising rays behold your joys begun
And evening twilight sees each duty done!
When Eve's calm hours, hymns, pray'rs, and praises, close,
And weariness and prudence wish repose—
Whose Night's afford soft dreams, or softer sleep,
While servile Vassals wake to watch, or weep!
Ah! let not baseless Hope, or bladdery Pride,
With dim delusion tempt your steps aside;
To sacrifice glad Freedom's gracious dow'r,
Or place your peace in reach of despot Pow'r!
Oh! forfeit not your franchise-boon of Birth!
By owning Mortals Masters, here, on Earth!
Learn every virtuous privilege to prize,
The feeborn use of limbs, tongues, ears, and eyes!
Will you your heavenly Sire's best blessing slight?
Be Dupes by day? and Negroes through the night?
For trifles be betray'd? for bubbles bought?
For toys yield up all Liberty but thought?
Corporeal faculties be moved, or stand,
Like wheels and levers in Mechanic's hand?
Exert your intellectual strength, and skill,
The mere Automatons of others' Will!
Your eyes be blind; or, more than seen, perceive?
Your ears be deaf; breasts more than's meant believe?
Thought, introduc'd, and lodg'd within the head,
Lie dormant, there; or, number'd with the dead.
The brain resembling only large hotel,
Where none but foreign families may dwell;
Like sham ambassadorial shadow, sent
To signify frail Sovereign's false intent.
Perfidious Pimp—or Spy—or abject Scout,
On some base expedition posted out,
To act pert Duns, or Bully's bolder part,
Nor feel one kind emotion move the heart!
Amanuensis, never to digress,
But plant ideas like a printing-press;
Or, graven copper-plate, again to roll
The pristine stamp of proud Employer's Soul.
Still trudging every road, like common hack,
To take Fools' trifles—bring Fops' baggage back.
All native Cogitations' private store,
To celibacy sworn, must breed no more;
But, unproductive, all, in secret cell,
Like insulated Nuns—Monks—Hermits—dwell—
No propagated offspring brought to birth
To speak their wisdom, or their parents' worth.
Be Dupes by day? and Negroes through the night?
For trifles be betray'd? for bubbles bought?
For toys yield up all Liberty but thought?
Corporeal faculties be moved, or stand,
Like wheels and levers in Mechanic's hand?
Exert your intellectual strength, and skill,
The mere Automatons of others' Will!
Your eyes be blind; or, more than seen, perceive?
Your ears be deaf; breasts more than's meant believe?
Thought, introduc'd, and lodg'd within the head,
Lie dormant, there; or, number'd with the dead.
The brain resembling only large hotel,
Where none but foreign families may dwell;
Like sham ambassadorial shadow, sent
114
Perfidious Pimp—or Spy—or abject Scout,
On some base expedition posted out,
To act pert Duns, or Bully's bolder part,
Nor feel one kind emotion move the heart!
Amanuensis, never to digress,
But plant ideas like a printing-press;
Or, graven copper-plate, again to roll
The pristine stamp of proud Employer's Soul.
Still trudging every road, like common hack,
To take Fools' trifles—bring Fops' baggage back.
All native Cogitations' private store,
To celibacy sworn, must breed no more;
But, unproductive, all, in secret cell,
Like insulated Nuns—Monks—Hermits—dwell—
No propagated offspring brought to birth
To speak their wisdom, or their parents' worth.
Ideas, dealt about, like current coin,
By motion, smooth'd, assimilate—and shine;
Thro' circulation still increasing store,
New generations rising, more and more—
But cloister'd, close, in such sequester'd shades,
Each strong impression, clear inscription, fades;
While all their features, fine; complexions, pure,
Neglected rust—nor long their dates endure—
Or all their broods, prohibited, to hide,
Become abortive, or, if born, destroy'd;
Like undrawn swords, in scabbards, cankering, lie,
While useless edge, and point, and polish, fly;
Unfit for Justice—Right, nor Truth, defend—
Intimidate no Foe—protect no Friend—
Or, like the silent Snows, by Winter spread,
In silvery treasures, o'er the mountain's head;
Whose stores, while undisturb'd, each hour decay,
And hue, form, substance, quickly waste away;
But stirr'd, by winds, like words, with action strong,
Each sphere enlarges as it rolls along—
Escapes the common crowd's oblivious fate,
Expands its fame, and amplifies its date—
Or, mix'd, and press'd, in masses, may produce,
Some future solace, or substantial use;
But fix'd, and frozen, in its pristine place,
Yields small advantage to Man's reasoning Race:
When thrown in sport, or spite, by human arm,
Dire mischief Causes, or creates alarm;
Or, with a blow, like a pestilential breath,
Endangers harmless individual's death—
But launch'd from Alpine heights by Heav'n's command,
Like words of Kings, which vex a vicious Land;
Tho', at the first, in force, and bulk, but small,
With widening horrors rolls the rapid ball;
Till, grown a mountain, with augmented pow'rs,
Flocks—families—huts—hamlets—towns, devours!
Thoughts, like Churl's corn, in chamber'd stores entomb'd,
Devour'd by vermin, or, decay, consum'd;
Whose fruits might food, or opulence, afford;
Enrich the Rich, or bless the poor Man's board—
For soon the pregnant vegetative grain
When scatter'd, aptly, o'er the cultur'd plain,
In vernal Spring expands its verdant smiles
To pay, in part, with hopes, the Seedsman's toils;
With golden wealth, in time, to flood the ground,
And spread strength, health, and happiness, around!
By motion, smooth'd, assimilate—and shine;
Thro' circulation still increasing store,
New generations rising, more and more—
But cloister'd, close, in such sequester'd shades,
Each strong impression, clear inscription, fades;
While all their features, fine; complexions, pure,
Neglected rust—nor long their dates endure—
Or all their broods, prohibited, to hide,
Become abortive, or, if born, destroy'd;
Like undrawn swords, in scabbards, cankering, lie,
While useless edge, and point, and polish, fly;
Unfit for Justice—Right, nor Truth, defend—
Intimidate no Foe—protect no Friend—
Or, like the silent Snows, by Winter spread,
In silvery treasures, o'er the mountain's head;
Whose stores, while undisturb'd, each hour decay,
And hue, form, substance, quickly waste away;
But stirr'd, by winds, like words, with action strong,
Each sphere enlarges as it rolls along—
Escapes the common crowd's oblivious fate,
Expands its fame, and amplifies its date—
Or, mix'd, and press'd, in masses, may produce,
Some future solace, or substantial use;
But fix'd, and frozen, in its pristine place,
Yields small advantage to Man's reasoning Race:
When thrown in sport, or spite, by human arm,
Dire mischief Causes, or creates alarm;
Or, with a blow, like a pestilential breath,
Endangers harmless individual's death—
But launch'd from Alpine heights by Heav'n's command,
Like words of Kings, which vex a vicious Land;
Tho', at the first, in force, and bulk, but small,
With widening horrors rolls the rapid ball;
Till, grown a mountain, with augmented pow'rs,
Flocks—families—huts—hamlets—towns, devours!
Thoughts, like Churl's corn, in chamber'd stores entomb'd,
Devour'd by vermin, or, decay, consum'd;
Whose fruits might food, or opulence, afford;
Enrich the Rich, or bless the poor Man's board—
For soon the pregnant vegetative grain
When scatter'd, aptly, o'er the cultur'd plain,
In vernal Spring expands its verdant smiles
To pay, in part, with hopes, the Seedsman's toils;
With golden wealth, in time, to flood the ground,
And spread strength, health, and happiness, around!
Since causes and effects are so combin'd,
That passive Matter's mov'd by active Mind;
And happiness, and misery, much depend
On small beginnings grown to ampler end—
Each cause, and each effect, must first be sought,
In Matter, and in Mind, produc'd by Thought.
Whether in Thought, or not, Mind's essence dwell,
No learn'd, profound Psychologist can tell;
For all right reasoning first depends on facts,
And pondering how the Mind, or Spirit, acts.
Thought, in each act, tho' under Heav'n's controul,
Seems a mere simple motion of the Soul;
Yet must observe subordination still,
And act, subservient, with God's gracious Will—
It falls not in the sphere of finite sense
To trace out how ideas work, or whence;
Ne'er can acutest Sophist clearly scan
Whether they come from God, or spring in Man,
Nor mortal Man, by natural reasoning, know,
How thought's first form'd, or free volitions flow;
Yet, whether Understanding wakes, or winks,
'Tis plain some prompt essential something thinks.
That passive Matter's mov'd by active Mind;
And happiness, and misery, much depend
On small beginnings grown to ampler end—
Each cause, and each effect, must first be sought,
In Matter, and in Mind, produc'd by Thought.
Whether in Thought, or not, Mind's essence dwell,
No learn'd, profound Psychologist can tell;
For all right reasoning first depends on facts,
And pondering how the Mind, or Spirit, acts.
Thought, in each act, tho' under Heav'n's controul,
Seems a mere simple motion of the Soul;
Yet must observe subordination still,
And act, subservient, with God's gracious Will—
It falls not in the sphere of finite sense
To trace out how ideas work, or whence;
Ne'er can acutest Sophist clearly scan
Whether they come from God, or spring in Man,
Nor mortal Man, by natural reasoning, know,
How thought's first form'd, or free volitions flow;
Yet, whether Understanding wakes, or winks,
'Tis plain some prompt essential something thinks.
From unbeginning Mind must needs arise
All things that can exist in Earth, or Skies;
And, thro' that self-existing Being, knows
All Matter—Motion—Soul, or Spirit, rose.
Tho' Matter Matter moves, repels, or draws,
By clear, precisely-well-adjusted, Laws;
Still, all right-reasoning heads, with Newton, own,
All Will, and Pow'r, in Spirit lives, alone.
But ne'er hath Newton, yet, nor Locke, defin'd,
How Mind moves Matter, or how Matter, Mind;
But philosophic Malebranche fairly proves,
That pow'rless Matter pow'rful Spirit moves;
Yet immaterial Mind, by Heav'n's blest dow'r,
Moves passive Matter with ideal pow'r,
'Tis plain, perceptions, too, in Spirit reign,
But not in mere material breast, or brain—
That all Sensations in the Soul exist,
Impress'd by God, as Love and Wisdom list.
'Twas Newton's Soul perceiv'd, and not his head,
Why, round the Sun all Planet orbs are led;
And 'twas his Soul, and not his eye, that saw,
How Spirit each impels, by heavenly Law;
And Locke, by Spirit's light, alone, could know,
Whence all ideas and gradations grow—
But, still, 'twas all his gracious Maker's Might,
And Love, and Goodness, gave his Soul that light!
All things that can exist in Earth, or Skies;
And, thro' that self-existing Being, knows
All Matter—Motion—Soul, or Spirit, rose.
Tho' Matter Matter moves, repels, or draws,
115
Still, all right-reasoning heads, with Newton, own,
All Will, and Pow'r, in Spirit lives, alone.
But ne'er hath Newton, yet, nor Locke, defin'd,
How Mind moves Matter, or how Matter, Mind;
But philosophic Malebranche fairly proves,
That pow'rless Matter pow'rful Spirit moves;
Yet immaterial Mind, by Heav'n's blest dow'r,
Moves passive Matter with ideal pow'r,
'Tis plain, perceptions, too, in Spirit reign,
But not in mere material breast, or brain—
That all Sensations in the Soul exist,
Impress'd by God, as Love and Wisdom list.
'Twas Newton's Soul perceiv'd, and not his head,
Why, round the Sun all Planet orbs are led;
And 'twas his Soul, and not his eye, that saw,
How Spirit each impels, by heavenly Law;
And Locke, by Spirit's light, alone, could know,
Whence all ideas and gradations grow—
But, still, 'twas all his gracious Maker's Might,
And Love, and Goodness, gave his Soul that light!
With pow'rful Agency can Matter act?
With innate strength, alone, repel? attract?
Lay all its dead inertness quite aside,
And be its own Self-governor, and Guide?
'Tis nothing but a simple instrument,
Prepar'd by God, to answer wise intent,
In showing forth His Wisdom, Pow'r, and Love,
To Men below, and Angel-Hosts above!
And what is Nature, but an empty Name?
A Phrase denoting merely Matter's Frame—
Or idle Epithet, still meaning less,
Which may imaginary pow'r express;
That Atheist, Infidel, or Heathen, suits,
To Matter giving God's blest attributes.
But Nature boasts no knowledge, pow'r, or will,
One plan to form, or purpose to fulfil—
No skill to frame, no wishes to withstand
One scheme, design'd by Christ's controuling hand.
And what are all the secondary Pow'rs
On which Mankind's imagination tow'rs?
'Tis God, conceal'd by Mortal's monstrous whim—
All Might and Majesty belongs to Him!
What is Attraction, which can bodies draw
Tow'rd some known centre, by a secret Law?
What Gravitation, which makes Matter tend
To some fix'd point—fall—circle—or ascend?
Or what Cohesion making parts combine,
In constant forms, as feeling self-design?
Cohesion's nothing but an empty sound,
By which no fashion's fram'd, or body's bound.
Cohesion is but God's unbounded Might,
Which makes material substances unite—
Makes Gravitation felt thro' Nature's frame,
And all Attraction shows that Strength the same.
He moulds each mass in seen, or unseen, Suns,
With every Orb that round their centers runs.
'Tis He that operates in the two-fold force,
That urges on, and keeps them in their course—
Impels their speed, yet reins them as they fly,
In measur'd movements, thro' the pathless Sky.
From Him angelic Spirits' pow'rs proceed
And act in ways His sovereign will decreed.
Perchance to whirl each Sun, in central place,
And guide appended Globes in circling race,
Or fill appointed posts in his firm plan,
Betwixt their Maker and His Minion, Man.
Not that His Pow'r, on whom all Pow'rs depend,
All Nature's Father—Guide—Support—and Friend!
Whose Wisdom governs, and whose Goodness made—
Who ne'er can need His highest Creature's aid!
His Presence fills each planetary sphere,
His boundless Pow'r acts always—everywhere!
His Love, alike, pervades the vast Domain,
While Will with Wisdom, Grace, and Goodness, reign!
All rests on Pow'r supreme of Nature's God,
Ev'n agent Minds commission'd by his nod!
Himself the Cause of every other Cause!
Who fram'd, and still enforces, all His Laws!
For Laws, when form'd, ne'er force, let loose, or bind,
Without the pow'r of incorporeal Mind.
Nature, that knows no Law, no Law can sway;
No act begin, accelerate, or delay.
Whether each part's at rest, or masses range,
Without a pow'r of choice, it ne'er can change.
Devoid of Will, its ne'er can chuse its lot,
Nor e'er determine how to act, or not;
Nor can one living Creature freely list
Whether 'twill still exist, or not exist.
All Beings must on Deity depend,
Their necessary Source—Continuance—End!
From Him all Wills proceed—all Pow'rs begun
And His eternal Will must needs be done!
His Pow'r supports, His Wisdom rules, the Whole—
All Matter—Motion—immaterial Soul!
Ev'n all the separate Pow'rs His Will deputes,
Of unknown Natures—Angels—Men—and Brutes—
While all His perfect Attributes dispense,
Being—Life-bliss—of Matter, Soul, and Sense!
With innate strength, alone, repel? attract?
Lay all its dead inertness quite aside,
And be its own Self-governor, and Guide?
'Tis nothing but a simple instrument,
Prepar'd by God, to answer wise intent,
In showing forth His Wisdom, Pow'r, and Love,
To Men below, and Angel-Hosts above!
And what is Nature, but an empty Name?
A Phrase denoting merely Matter's Frame—
Or idle Epithet, still meaning less,
Which may imaginary pow'r express;
That Atheist, Infidel, or Heathen, suits,
To Matter giving God's blest attributes.
But Nature boasts no knowledge, pow'r, or will,
One plan to form, or purpose to fulfil—
No skill to frame, no wishes to withstand
One scheme, design'd by Christ's controuling hand.
And what are all the secondary Pow'rs
On which Mankind's imagination tow'rs?
'Tis God, conceal'd by Mortal's monstrous whim—
All Might and Majesty belongs to Him!
What is Attraction, which can bodies draw
Tow'rd some known centre, by a secret Law?
What Gravitation, which makes Matter tend
To some fix'd point—fall—circle—or ascend?
Or what Cohesion making parts combine,
In constant forms, as feeling self-design?
Cohesion's nothing but an empty sound,
By which no fashion's fram'd, or body's bound.
Cohesion is but God's unbounded Might,
Which makes material substances unite—
Makes Gravitation felt thro' Nature's frame,
And all Attraction shows that Strength the same.
He moulds each mass in seen, or unseen, Suns,
With every Orb that round their centers runs.
'Tis He that operates in the two-fold force,
That urges on, and keeps them in their course—
Impels their speed, yet reins them as they fly,
In measur'd movements, thro' the pathless Sky.
From Him angelic Spirits' pow'rs proceed
And act in ways His sovereign will decreed.
Perchance to whirl each Sun, in central place,
And guide appended Globes in circling race,
Or fill appointed posts in his firm plan,
Betwixt their Maker and His Minion, Man.
Not that His Pow'r, on whom all Pow'rs depend,
All Nature's Father—Guide—Support—and Friend!
Whose Wisdom governs, and whose Goodness made—
Who ne'er can need His highest Creature's aid!
His Presence fills each planetary sphere,
His boundless Pow'r acts always—everywhere!
His Love, alike, pervades the vast Domain,
While Will with Wisdom, Grace, and Goodness, reign!
All rests on Pow'r supreme of Nature's God,
Ev'n agent Minds commission'd by his nod!
Himself the Cause of every other Cause!
Who fram'd, and still enforces, all His Laws!
For Laws, when form'd, ne'er force, let loose, or bind,
Without the pow'r of incorporeal Mind.
Nature, that knows no Law, no Law can sway;
No act begin, accelerate, or delay.
Whether each part's at rest, or masses range,
Without a pow'r of choice, it ne'er can change.
Devoid of Will, its ne'er can chuse its lot,
Nor e'er determine how to act, or not;
Nor can one living Creature freely list
Whether 'twill still exist, or not exist.
All Beings must on Deity depend,
Their necessary Source—Continuance—End!
From Him all Wills proceed—all Pow'rs begun
116
His Pow'r supports, His Wisdom rules, the Whole—
All Matter—Motion—immaterial Soul!
Ev'n all the separate Pow'rs His Will deputes,
Of unknown Natures—Angels—Men—and Brutes—
While all His perfect Attributes dispense,
Being—Life-bliss—of Matter, Soul, and Sense!
To prove His Goodness, and employ His Grace,
He scatter'd Creatures thro' all pregnant Space—
Free Man, with wonderous faculties endued,
With consciousness of crime, and rectitude;
Connecting bliss, when properly employ'd,
With pow'rs apportion'd, thro' the viewless Void!
To share His Majesty, and show His Might,
Form'd Spirits, pure, of intellectual Light!
Ethereal Essences, to occupy
The various realms throughout the vacant Sky!
Form'd for each office, He, at first, assign'd,
Meet Messengers of immaterial Mind!
Not to support His pow'r—secure His peace—
Nor knowledge—wisdom—happiness—increase—
To aggrandize His Court—or ease His care,
But all His blessed attributes to share—
Heav'n's pure benevolence, and bliss, to prove
By exercising gifts of Grace and Love!
He scatter'd Creatures thro' all pregnant Space—
Free Man, with wonderous faculties endued,
With consciousness of crime, and rectitude;
Connecting bliss, when properly employ'd,
With pow'rs apportion'd, thro' the viewless Void!
To share His Majesty, and show His Might,
Form'd Spirits, pure, of intellectual Light!
Ethereal Essences, to occupy
The various realms throughout the vacant Sky!
Form'd for each office, He, at first, assign'd,
Meet Messengers of immaterial Mind!
Not to support His pow'r—secure His peace—
Nor knowledge—wisdom—happiness—increase—
To aggrandize His Court—or ease His care,
But all His blessed attributes to share—
Heav'n's pure benevolence, and bliss, to prove
By exercising gifts of Grace and Love!
Some, from their due obedience drawn aside
By false Ambition, and rebellious Pride,
From pure ineffable perfection fell,
And, troubling Earth, a Time, were doom'd to Hell;
By Pow'rs perversion Spirit grew perverse,
And glorious Gifts became the greater curse.
By false Ambition, and rebellious Pride,
From pure ineffable perfection fell,
And, troubling Earth, a Time, were doom'd to Hell;
By Pow'rs perversion Spirit grew perverse,
And glorious Gifts became the greater curse.
Nor Spirits made in purity remain'd,
His Gifts engag'd, or added honours gain'd,
Monopolizing all His Love, alone,
While minist'ring in myriads round His Throne,
To watch His Will—obey His sovereign call—
To wield each whirling World's embellish'd Ball;
Or carry messages, or mandates, new,
With duteous diligence Creation through—
But energetic Goodness—boundless Love—
Not only form'd such Pow'rs for parts above,
But brought forth other Beings into birth,
Compounded Creatures; on productive Earth.
Prompt Entities! with Mind and Matter mix'd—
With local pow'rs of motion, free, yet fix'd—
Fix'd to the circuit of their parent sphere,
Yet free to traverse the full limits there.
Furnish'd with pow'rs of Reason, Sense, and Will,
To judge—to feel—and grasp at Good, or Ill.
Indefinitely free, to fall, or stand,
By breaking, or obeying, His command.
His Gifts engag'd, or added honours gain'd,
Monopolizing all His Love, alone,
While minist'ring in myriads round His Throne,
To watch His Will—obey His sovereign call—
To wield each whirling World's embellish'd Ball;
Or carry messages, or mandates, new,
With duteous diligence Creation through—
But energetic Goodness—boundless Love—
Not only form'd such Pow'rs for parts above,
But brought forth other Beings into birth,
Compounded Creatures; on productive Earth.
Prompt Entities! with Mind and Matter mix'd—
With local pow'rs of motion, free, yet fix'd—
Fix'd to the circuit of their parent sphere,
Yet free to traverse the full limits there.
Furnish'd with pow'rs of Reason, Sense, and Will,
To judge—to feel—and grasp at Good, or Ill.
Indefinitely free, to fall, or stand,
By breaking, or obeying, His command.
Such were the boons, at Nature's birth, bestow'd
By God, on Man, in his terrene abode.
What other wonders rise, o'er Worlds, that run,
Concentric circles round our neighbouring Sun;
What other Systems other Suns surround,
Profusely scatter'd o'er the vast profound,
About those Bodies optic tubes descry
Thro' all the depths of circumambient Sky;
Or what more wonders, what more mighty Orbs,
Unfathom'd Space's hollow womb absorbs,
God's gracious Will, with plastic pow'r, has wrought,
Exceeds the utmost strength of human thought;
And Revelation has witheld the means
For drawing back th' impenetrable skreens—
Yet will Imagination's daring wings
Fly far beyond the present Scene of things;
Beyond the keenest ken of human eyes,
With all which telescopic pow'r supplies.
Her strength unwearied, soars, in rapid race,
Thro' pregnant regions of unbounded Space,
And thro' that wide Champaign sees World o'er World,
By Pow'r supreme, or arm, Angelic, hurl'd—
And while she thus performs her circling flight,
Calm reason, scattering round reflected light,
On Understanding beams her borrow'd ray,
To help her through those tracts of distant day;
While analogic Judgment traces, clear,
Earth's full resemblance in each fancied sphere;
And deems each Orb, in perfect Wisdom's plan,
Holds reasoning Creatures much resembling Man.
By God, on Man, in his terrene abode.
What other wonders rise, o'er Worlds, that run,
Concentric circles round our neighbouring Sun;
What other Systems other Suns surround,
Profusely scatter'd o'er the vast profound,
About those Bodies optic tubes descry
Thro' all the depths of circumambient Sky;
Or what more wonders, what more mighty Orbs,
Unfathom'd Space's hollow womb absorbs,
God's gracious Will, with plastic pow'r, has wrought,
Exceeds the utmost strength of human thought;
And Revelation has witheld the means
For drawing back th' impenetrable skreens—
Yet will Imagination's daring wings
Fly far beyond the present Scene of things;
Beyond the keenest ken of human eyes,
With all which telescopic pow'r supplies.
Her strength unwearied, soars, in rapid race,
Thro' pregnant regions of unbounded Space,
And thro' that wide Champaign sees World o'er World,
By Pow'r supreme, or arm, Angelic, hurl'd—
And while she thus performs her circling flight,
Calm reason, scattering round reflected light,
On Understanding beams her borrow'd ray,
To help her through those tracts of distant day;
While analogic Judgment traces, clear,
Earth's full resemblance in each fancied sphere;
And deems each Orb, in perfect Wisdom's plan,
Holds reasoning Creatures much resembling Man.
Tho' Space should boast no other Worlds beside,
Where conscious Beings, made like Man, abide;
Here's ample scope for Angels' full employ,
To scatter Kindness, or to gather Joy—
Their constant service, and their thankful theme,
The Creature's good, and praise to God, supreme!
Here, Heav'n, with Words inspir'd, hath clearly shown,
What Reason's utmost efforts ne'er had known,
That Angels, oft, Ambassadors are sent,
Informing Men of Heav'n's declar'd intent;
Whose mediatorial embassies fulfill'd,
And signified what God's free Grace had will'd;
May frequent intimations more dispense,
Unknown, and unperceived, by Sense.
Where conscious Beings, made like Man, abide;
Here's ample scope for Angels' full employ,
To scatter Kindness, or to gather Joy—
Their constant service, and their thankful theme,
The Creature's good, and praise to God, supreme!
Here, Heav'n, with Words inspir'd, hath clearly shown,
What Reason's utmost efforts ne'er had known,
That Angels, oft, Ambassadors are sent,
Informing Men of Heav'n's declar'd intent;
Whose mediatorial embassies fulfill'd,
117
May frequent intimations more dispense,
Unknown, and unperceived, by Sense.
Such simple arguments may clearly prove
That Mind, and Mind alone can Matter move,
By syllogistic reasoning show, as clear,
That Matter, mov'd, must ever persevere,
Beyond Creation's bound, or Time's extent,
Except the Pow'r, that first impell'd, prevent—
For space, or period, never can devour
One spark of Spirit, or one act of Pow'r.
That Mind, and Mind alone can Matter move,
By syllogistic reasoning show, as clear,
That Matter, mov'd, must ever persevere,
Beyond Creation's bound, or Time's extent,
Except the Pow'r, that first impell'd, prevent—
For space, or period, never can devour
One spark of Spirit, or one act of Pow'r.
Mere Matter's found by all Mankind confest
Indifferent both to motion and to rest.
When moving bodies other bodies strike
Each particle of each must move alike.
Resistance, too, some active Pow'r implies,
And must from immaterial Mind arise;
For, mass'd, or separate, in its pristine parts,
No powerless Matter ever stops, or starts.
Indifferent both to motion and to rest.
When moving bodies other bodies strike
Each particle of each must move alike.
Resistance, too, some active Pow'r implies,
And must from immaterial Mind arise;
For, mass'd, or separate, in its pristine parts,
No powerless Matter ever stops, or starts.
As Matter, mov'd by Mind's immediate force,
Controuls, or actuates, other Matter's course,
So Spirit may, with influence more refin'd,
With innate pow'r, by impulse, act on Mind;
And Mind, where pow'rs of choice, and action, live,
May mutual pow'r impulsive, gain, or give:
All stronger weaker actuate—stop—restrain,
Affording pleasure, or inflicting pain—
From Brute to Man; from Man, ascending high'r,
Thro' Angels, nameless, up to Seraph's Sire—
Who, from His infinite, eternal, Throne,
Can act unbounded—uncontroul'd—alone!
Controuls, or actuates, other Matter's course,
So Spirit may, with influence more refin'd,
With innate pow'r, by impulse, act on Mind;
And Mind, where pow'rs of choice, and action, live,
May mutual pow'r impulsive, gain, or give:
All stronger weaker actuate—stop—restrain,
Affording pleasure, or inflicting pain—
From Brute to Man; from Man, ascending high'r,
Thro' Angels, nameless, up to Seraph's Sire—
Who, from His infinite, eternal, Throne,
Can act unbounded—uncontroul'd—alone!
Man only may on Man his pow'rs employ,
Creating Misery, or enlarging Joy—
Become his own by being Fellow's Foe,
Or, operate downward, on the Brutes below;
But ne'er can act, beyond Heav'n's blest controul,
To please, or pain, the Frame, or fright the Soul.
Since Mind, supernal Mind! o'er all presides,
Begets each impulse, and each impulse guides—
Each purpose spreading thro' expanse of Thought,
Till small conceptions into birth are brought;
While Understanding lights, and leads, the Will,
That active instrument of good, or ill!
Which, prompt in Childhood, proves its pow'r of choice,
Vents its first efforts with a wailing voice;
And growing still more active, terse, and strong,
It tries its little tool, the lisping tongue;
While struggling limbs throw swathe and bandage by,
With tiney Art, will, still, fresh efforts try;
Till clamourous cries, whines, blandishments, may win
Some fleshly objects, as first signs of Sin.
Ascending upward, still, to riper Youth,
With fraud, with falshood, and sometimes, with truth;
Life's obvious ills to fly, or good to gain,
It strives to 'stablish its tyrannic reign.
When up to Manhood, now, progressive, grown,
It prompter still, assumes much prouder tone;
And, independent, obstinately, leads
To words more wilful, or more desperate deeds;
While despot practices more strongly tend
To form foul habits—fix each evil end!
Creating Misery, or enlarging Joy—
Become his own by being Fellow's Foe,
Or, operate downward, on the Brutes below;
But ne'er can act, beyond Heav'n's blest controul,
To please, or pain, the Frame, or fright the Soul.
Since Mind, supernal Mind! o'er all presides,
Begets each impulse, and each impulse guides—
Each purpose spreading thro' expanse of Thought,
Till small conceptions into birth are brought;
While Understanding lights, and leads, the Will,
That active instrument of good, or ill!
Which, prompt in Childhood, proves its pow'r of choice,
Vents its first efforts with a wailing voice;
And growing still more active, terse, and strong,
It tries its little tool, the lisping tongue;
While struggling limbs throw swathe and bandage by,
With tiney Art, will, still, fresh efforts try;
Till clamourous cries, whines, blandishments, may win
Some fleshly objects, as first signs of Sin.
Ascending upward, still, to riper Youth,
With fraud, with falshood, and sometimes, with truth;
Life's obvious ills to fly, or good to gain,
It strives to 'stablish its tyrannic reign.
When up to Manhood, now, progressive, grown,
It prompter still, assumes much prouder tone;
And, independent, obstinately, leads
To words more wilful, or more desperate deeds;
While despot practices more strongly tend
To form foul habits—fix each evil end!
How then should matron Mind, with filial fear,
Judge all the embryo thoughts engender'd there!
To kill each procreant male, and thence expel
All, claiming cursed origin from Hell;
Or strength obtain to strangle, ere their birth,
Proud rebel progenies, allied to Earth;
Yet nurse, and nurture, all the sacred Seed,
While banishing the base Egyptian breed;
Training, or stifling, each ideal Child,
Nor, idly, let a savage Race run wild—
Like Hebrew midwives, with obstetric hand
Preserving every birth of Israel's band,
Not fearing any Pharaoh's wicked Will,
One offspring of that promis'd Seed to kill—
Or, Moses-like, when such opponents strive,
Destroy the Foe to save the Friend alive—
Make mocking Ishmael's from the house depart,
But cherish Isaac's both in head and heart.
Judge all the embryo thoughts engender'd there!
To kill each procreant male, and thence expel
All, claiming cursed origin from Hell;
Or strength obtain to strangle, ere their birth,
Proud rebel progenies, allied to Earth;
Yet nurse, and nurture, all the sacred Seed,
While banishing the base Egyptian breed;
Training, or stifling, each ideal Child,
Nor, idly, let a savage Race run wild—
Like Hebrew midwives, with obstetric hand
Preserving every birth of Israel's band,
Not fearing any Pharaoh's wicked Will,
One offspring of that promis'd Seed to kill—
Or, Moses-like, when such opponents strive,
Destroy the Foe to save the Friend alive—
Make mocking Ishmael's from the house depart,
But cherish Isaac's both in head and heart.
From mental matrix all the monsters rise
That injure Earth, and counteract the Skies!
But, tho' they poison all the peace of Man,
Flesh ne'er can frustrate Providence's plan!
When in the brain, and breast, Hell's vipery broods,
From Serpent spawn's matur'd, in multitudes;
And, mixing with the mass of native thought,
By fostering Friendship into birth are brought—
With hateful forms still pester every place,
And, biting deep, destroy Man's wretched Race!
Or, like Snakes' eggs, in strict connection strung,
And lodg'd in dirty heaps of heating dung,
By general warmth, with innate nurture join'd,
Troops march abroad to terrify Mankind.
That injure Earth, and counteract the Skies!
But, tho' they poison all the peace of Man,
Flesh ne'er can frustrate Providence's plan!
When in the brain, and breast, Hell's vipery broods,
From Serpent spawn's matur'd, in multitudes;
And, mixing with the mass of native thought,
By fostering Friendship into birth are brought—
With hateful forms still pester every place,
And, biting deep, destroy Man's wretched Race!
Or, like Snakes' eggs, in strict connection strung,
And lodg'd in dirty heaps of heating dung,
118
Troops march abroad to terrify Mankind.
Herculean Minds may, oft, with manag'd Will,
Such serpent pests, in infant cradle, kill—
Or may, in kitchens cookt, or pots made pure,
As food refresh, or, as strong cordials, cure;
But should the Heart embrace each appley bribe,
And propagate a deadly Demon tribe—
With twins, Titanian, boast, blaspheme, and rail—
Vex Earth, with giant strength, and Heav'n assail—
Thro' Life, in plans perfidious, daily plod,
Still mortifying Man, while grieving God—
Soon must such Parents feel distracting fear
For, like new Fiends, their fell destruction's near!
Such serpent pests, in infant cradle, kill—
Or may, in kitchens cookt, or pots made pure,
As food refresh, or, as strong cordials, cure;
But should the Heart embrace each appley bribe,
And propagate a deadly Demon tribe—
With twins, Titanian, boast, blaspheme, and rail—
Vex Earth, with giant strength, and Heav'n assail—
Thro' Life, in plans perfidious, daily plod,
Still mortifying Man, while grieving God—
Soon must such Parents feel distracting fear
For, like new Fiends, their fell destruction's near!
The progeny of impish Vice, that springs
From titled Tyrants, or accursed Kings;
Like pow'rful Chiefs penurious people chouse,
By joining field to field, and house to house;
Or, strong, in gather'd gold, the World o'erwhelm,
Still adding town to town, and realm to realm—
Like petty, or like potent, Nimrods, reign,
And hunt the Poor from each impoverish'd plain;
While meagre Want with Misery mopes, and pines,
Stripp'd of its figtree's fruits and ruin'd vines!
From titled Tyrants, or accursed Kings;
Like pow'rful Chiefs penurious people chouse,
By joining field to field, and house to house;
Or, strong, in gather'd gold, the World o'erwhelm,
Still adding town to town, and realm to realm—
Like petty, or like potent, Nimrods, reign,
And hunt the Poor from each impoverish'd plain;
While meagre Want with Misery mopes, and pines,
Stripp'd of its figtree's fruits and ruin'd vines!
Vile thoughts, once vented, and proclaim'd, by Pow'r,
Like storms, destroy! like fires, and floods, devour!
Wealth's cruel whispers—Princes' proud commands,
Can actuate taunting tongues, or hostile hands,
To vex a Vicinage—bewilder Worth—
O'erthrow a Throne, and desolate the Earth!
Ev'n Folly's face, or Envy's vicious eye,
May look, or laugh, a satire—smile, a lie;
Ev'n slightest syllables of basest Boor,
May plague the Pow'rful, or perplex the Poor—
The vulgar lay, or ignorant eloquence,
May vitiate Virtue, or may martyr Sense.
The Poor's, like oaten pipe's imperfect sound,
May grate the hamlet's ears, its hearts may wound—
Wealth's, like the drum's, or trumpet's tones, expand,
And spread wide-circling terrors through the Land—
Like squibs and crackers, those, diffusing fear,
Among the mobs, and small assemblies, near;
While these, like rattling bombs, or cannons roar,
Extend their baneful blasts from shore to shore!
Like storms, destroy! like fires, and floods, devour!
Wealth's cruel whispers—Princes' proud commands,
Can actuate taunting tongues, or hostile hands,
To vex a Vicinage—bewilder Worth—
O'erthrow a Throne, and desolate the Earth!
Ev'n Folly's face, or Envy's vicious eye,
May look, or laugh, a satire—smile, a lie;
Ev'n slightest syllables of basest Boor,
May plague the Pow'rful, or perplex the Poor—
The vulgar lay, or ignorant eloquence,
May vitiate Virtue, or may martyr Sense.
The Poor's, like oaten pipe's imperfect sound,
May grate the hamlet's ears, its hearts may wound—
Wealth's, like the drum's, or trumpet's tones, expand,
And spread wide-circling terrors through the Land—
Like squibs and crackers, those, diffusing fear,
Among the mobs, and small assemblies, near;
While these, like rattling bombs, or cannons roar,
Extend their baneful blasts from shore to shore!
Since Adam ate his apple, heart, and head,
Have dragon broods of disobedience bred;
Innumerous mischiefs heap'd, and miseries hurl'd,
O'er every region round this wicked World!
Have dragon broods of disobedience bred;
Innumerous mischiefs heap'd, and miseries hurl'd,
O'er every region round this wicked World!
By looks, and language, lust, and lies, begin,
Begetting endless forms of social Sin;
Which evil acts, and habits, bring to birth,
Till wild confusion fills the frantic Earth!
Begetting endless forms of social Sin;
Which evil acts, and habits, bring to birth,
Till wild confusion fills the frantic Earth!
With wonderous pow'r the Spring's impressive smile
Wakes genial warmth in Air, and Sea, and Soil;
And, scattering round, soft, fascinating, fires,
Kindles, in all that live, intense desires—
So Lust's inflaming looks deep influence dart,
Like fires, electric, thro' the human heart—
Relax each nerve—all virtuous views controul,
And melt each moral wire that warn'd the Soul:
Religious hope, and pious purpose, feel,
And Resolution's tow'ry turrets reel,
Till, maugre Conscience—Pride's—Shame's, feeble calls,
Till, by strong strokes, each buttress'd fabric falls!
On passive Souls such sparks full force impart,
Flash on from eye to eye, from heart to heart;
The circling groups, in contact, find no stop,
But, one by one, the stricken victims drop;
While every rampant Youth, and restless Dame,
Feels the full influence of the subtle flame!
Wakes genial warmth in Air, and Sea, and Soil;
And, scattering round, soft, fascinating, fires,
Kindles, in all that live, intense desires—
So Lust's inflaming looks deep influence dart,
Like fires, electric, thro' the human heart—
Relax each nerve—all virtuous views controul,
And melt each moral wire that warn'd the Soul:
Religious hope, and pious purpose, feel,
And Resolution's tow'ry turrets reel,
Till, maugre Conscience—Pride's—Shame's, feeble calls,
Till, by strong strokes, each buttress'd fabric falls!
On passive Souls such sparks full force impart,
Flash on from eye to eye, from heart to heart;
The circling groups, in contact, find no stop,
But, one by one, the stricken victims drop;
While every rampant Youth, and restless Dame,
Feels the full influence of the subtle flame!
The pow'r of Speech; while flying more diffuse,
Each pigmy whisper grows to giant news—
Few lips, contracted, try, with Christian pout,
To cool hot Lies, or blow Lust's blazes out;
Nor with more pow'rful, or impetuous, breath,
Dash Scandal down, or beat base Doubts to death;
But with strong blasts, from full-distended mouth,
Like trumpets, turning East—West—North, and South,
Rouze all fierce Passions that inflame the breast,
And rob Mankind of morals, peace, and rest!
Each pigmy whisper grows to giant news—
Few lips, contracted, try, with Christian pout,
To cool hot Lies, or blow Lust's blazes out;
Nor with more pow'rful, or impetuous, breath,
Dash Scandal down, or beat base Doubts to death;
But with strong blasts, from full-distended mouth,
Like trumpets, turning East—West—North, and South,
Rouze all fierce Passions that inflame the breast,
And rob Mankind of morals, peace, and rest!
Lies are all Countries' counterfeited Coin,
And, like most current Money, shrewdly shine.
Appear the same in specie, shape, and hue;
But jingle not, or, sharper than the true.
This may present a Monarch's portrait well
But, whether free from treachery who can tell.
Tho' kingly superscription speaks of State,
For each oft's wanting in specific weight.
All full, and fair, without; but false, within;
Copper, or Platina, Lead, Tutenague, or Tin.
And, like most current Money, shrewdly shine.
Appear the same in specie, shape, and hue;
But jingle not, or, sharper than the true.
This may present a Monarch's portrait well
But, whether free from treachery who can tell.
Tho' kingly superscription speaks of State,
For each oft's wanting in specific weight.
All full, and fair, without; but false, within;
Copper, or Platina, Lead, Tutenague, or Tin.
119
Oft Calumny and Scandal date their birth
From thoughtless Levity, or maddening Mirth—
At first the feeble breeze but faintly blows,
Credulity's light wind, round whiffling foes;
But weak Surmise, to strong Assertion grown,
Pert Protestation adds a stouter tone—
When multiplying vows, and oaths, at last,
Increase momentum, and enlarge the blast,
Till in the strong tornado, Virtues, tall,
With helpless Innocence, in ruins fall:
So first, in circle small, with whispering play,
The new-fledg'd whirlwinds wing their wanton way,
And in their sportive spiral eddies, draw,
Light stuff, dust, stubble, feathers, chaff, and straw;
But, with increas'd velocity, at length,
Each vast convolving vortex, gathering strength,
O'er wider bounds the whistling wonders blow.
And lay the lofty tree and fabric, low!
From thoughtless Levity, or maddening Mirth—
At first the feeble breeze but faintly blows,
Credulity's light wind, round whiffling foes;
But weak Surmise, to strong Assertion grown,
Pert Protestation adds a stouter tone—
When multiplying vows, and oaths, at last,
Increase momentum, and enlarge the blast,
Till in the strong tornado, Virtues, tall,
With helpless Innocence, in ruins fall:
So first, in circle small, with whispering play,
The new-fledg'd whirlwinds wing their wanton way,
And in their sportive spiral eddies, draw,
Light stuff, dust, stubble, feathers, chaff, and straw;
But, with increas'd velocity, at length,
Each vast convolving vortex, gathering strength,
O'er wider bounds the whistling wonders blow.
And lay the lofty tree and fabric, low!
But not by Mirth, or Levity, alone,
Are fructifying seeds of Falshood, sown;
Or Scandal scatter'd by Indifference, round,
On trodden tracks, rude rocks, or thorny ground—
But Spite and Envy, prompt, with traitorous toil,
Plough, pulverize, and sow, their proper soil;
And mixing Malice in the native mould,
Bring fruits of Evil forth, an hundred-fold!
Ne'er with foul dung, and spiteful sprinklings, loth,
To give each poisonous plant its grossest growth;
While heading hoes, or whelming spades, destroy
Each wholesome herb, or healing simple by:
Like India's fabled plant their branches spread,
Each stretching far o'er Earth its procreant head;
And, striking deep, with fresh, nefarious, roots,
Another bough, and still another, shoots;
While o'er extensive tracts fell fumes convey
A fatal stench from every venom'd spray!
Depriv'd of pure, and healthy, atmosphere,
No tender plant, or flow'r, can flourish near;
But, with dire, deleterious, blighting, breath,
All droop, and pine, or fade, and fall, in death!
So no unwitting Swain, or simple Maid,
That seeks repose beside such deadly shade,
Can hope true comfort or contented ease,
Within the compass of their blasting breeze—
Will ne'er with peace, and purity, retire,
But mourn with Misery, or with pain expire!
Are fructifying seeds of Falshood, sown;
Or Scandal scatter'd by Indifference, round,
On trodden tracks, rude rocks, or thorny ground—
But Spite and Envy, prompt, with traitorous toil,
Plough, pulverize, and sow, their proper soil;
And mixing Malice in the native mould,
Bring fruits of Evil forth, an hundred-fold!
Ne'er with foul dung, and spiteful sprinklings, loth,
To give each poisonous plant its grossest growth;
While heading hoes, or whelming spades, destroy
Each wholesome herb, or healing simple by:
Like India's fabled plant their branches spread,
Each stretching far o'er Earth its procreant head;
And, striking deep, with fresh, nefarious, roots,
Another bough, and still another, shoots;
While o'er extensive tracts fell fumes convey
A fatal stench from every venom'd spray!
Depriv'd of pure, and healthy, atmosphere,
No tender plant, or flow'r, can flourish near;
But, with dire, deleterious, blighting, breath,
All droop, and pine, or fade, and fall, in death!
So no unwitting Swain, or simple Maid,
That seeks repose beside such deadly shade,
Can hope true comfort or contented ease,
Within the compass of their blasting breeze—
Will ne'er with peace, and purity, retire,
But mourn with Misery, or with pain expire!
Alas! what friendless wretches feel the wrongs
Of leprous lips, and pestilential tongues!
Whose breath, infectious, flatteringly conveys
The rankest poisons in the richest praise;
Or with its subtile and satyric sounds,
Inflicts, on Worth, deep-festering, fatal, wounds!
The flattering tongue, when exercised on Youth,
O'erturns the small remains of native Truth;
Which, adding to deceptions, first infus'd,
Virtue's abandon'd! Innocence abused!
The slavering venom, blending with the blood,
In stronger tide swells up the feverish flood—
Or, like an opiate, thro' each artery creeps,
Till Resolution slacks, and Reason sleeps;
And while fond Fancy sketches fairy schemes,
The Mind indulges mad, or, dangerous dreams—
The vile pollution spreads thro' every part—
Pride occupies the head, and Lust the heart!
While Passion, still impressing views impure,
Confirms those Ills no time, nor drugs, can cure!
The tongue's envenom'd shafts, tho' shot from far,
Make wounds, which seldom close without a scar.
Like murdering mildew, such consumptive breath,
Stains Beauty's bloom, or stinks fair Fame to death!
Illiberal language wounds, by waspish words,
More than explosions, bayonets, and swords!
Where one by hostile steel, or powder, dies,
Numbers are butcher'd by malignant Lies!
By sudden Passion, or by proud Self-will,
Strokes lightly injure, or completely kill;
But violated Truth makes Virtue, long,
Feel vile effects from false, or flattering Tongue—
Deep, lingering pains, thro' Life, be still deplor'd,
For Character, so stung, is ne'er restor'd—
Truth's cruel tortures not itself can tell!
False tongues thus fire the Earth, themselves inflam'd by Hell!
Of leprous lips, and pestilential tongues!
Whose breath, infectious, flatteringly conveys
The rankest poisons in the richest praise;
Or with its subtile and satyric sounds,
Inflicts, on Worth, deep-festering, fatal, wounds!
The flattering tongue, when exercised on Youth,
O'erturns the small remains of native Truth;
Which, adding to deceptions, first infus'd,
Virtue's abandon'd! Innocence abused!
The slavering venom, blending with the blood,
In stronger tide swells up the feverish flood—
Or, like an opiate, thro' each artery creeps,
Till Resolution slacks, and Reason sleeps;
And while fond Fancy sketches fairy schemes,
The Mind indulges mad, or, dangerous dreams—
The vile pollution spreads thro' every part—
Pride occupies the head, and Lust the heart!
While Passion, still impressing views impure,
Confirms those Ills no time, nor drugs, can cure!
The tongue's envenom'd shafts, tho' shot from far,
Make wounds, which seldom close without a scar.
Like murdering mildew, such consumptive breath,
Stains Beauty's bloom, or stinks fair Fame to death!
Illiberal language wounds, by waspish words,
More than explosions, bayonets, and swords!
Where one by hostile steel, or powder, dies,
Numbers are butcher'd by malignant Lies!
By sudden Passion, or by proud Self-will,
Strokes lightly injure, or completely kill;
But violated Truth makes Virtue, long,
Feel vile effects from false, or flattering Tongue—
Deep, lingering pains, thro' Life, be still deplor'd,
For Character, so stung, is ne'er restor'd—
Truth's cruel tortures not itself can tell!
False tongues thus fire the Earth, themselves inflam'd by Hell!
Beware, ye Wits! your Christian calling see,
Nor tempt Mankind by fruit from Flattery's Tree;
Whose graceful foliage, and whose flow'rets, gay,
Full oft allure instructed feet astray!
Whose fascinating fruit may still entice,
Poor passive Eves to risque their Paradise;
While soft mellifluent scents, and rosey rind,
May subtly subjugate each Adam's Mind!
May, when its branches breathe some witching Song,
Draw wanton Age, and witless Youth, along;
Bewilder both—and stimulate to taste
Those charms, which cherish every wish unchaste;
Till, paralyzing Lust, at length, expires,
With all its pleasing hopes, and dear desires;
While Conscience closes Life's impure repast
With loathings, and anathemas, at last!
Nor, oh! ye Profligates! high Heav'n provoke
With impious jest, or sacrilegious joke;
For every idol word, pronounc'd in play,
Must stand pure test in Jesu's judgment Day!
But, oh! Blasphemers! Sense, and Reason's shame!
Who proudly sport with Heav'n's most sacred Name!
That Name before which Angels bow the head!
Wise Christians worship—Dev'ls believe—and dread!
And will Ye—worse than Dolts! than Demons worse!
Defy your Maker? and provoke His curse?
Will Ye all Sense and Reason far forego,
To feel the shame of Fiends, and share their woe?
Will Ye presume, in Piety's despite,
And calls of Conscience, rob Him of His right?
Dare You appear before His bar arraign'd,
For breaking Heav'n's behest? Your King's command?
Dare You presume to give Your God offence?
And can You combat with Omnipotence?
Alas! look back! repent of every crime!
Nor more misuse Your talents, and Your time!
No more His Providence, and Pow'r, defy,
Who might, each moment, all your strength destroy!
Let Wit no longer scatter Flattery's flow'rs,
To hide that Serpent which such Souls devours!
Nor Falshood, in the cloak of Cunning furl'd,
Confound all Order in this nether World;
Much less abuse God's gift, by Speech profane,
Confronting Christ—confirming Satan's reign!
Flattery full oft becomes the Creature's rod,
But Oaths proclaim perpetual war with God!
Mankind may suffer from the force of Lies,
But Curses shoot their shafts against the Skies!
Nor tempt Mankind by fruit from Flattery's Tree;
Whose graceful foliage, and whose flow'rets, gay,
Full oft allure instructed feet astray!
Whose fascinating fruit may still entice,
Poor passive Eves to risque their Paradise;
While soft mellifluent scents, and rosey rind,
May subtly subjugate each Adam's Mind!
May, when its branches breathe some witching Song,
120
Bewilder both—and stimulate to taste
Those charms, which cherish every wish unchaste;
Till, paralyzing Lust, at length, expires,
With all its pleasing hopes, and dear desires;
While Conscience closes Life's impure repast
With loathings, and anathemas, at last!
Nor, oh! ye Profligates! high Heav'n provoke
With impious jest, or sacrilegious joke;
For every idol word, pronounc'd in play,
Must stand pure test in Jesu's judgment Day!
But, oh! Blasphemers! Sense, and Reason's shame!
Who proudly sport with Heav'n's most sacred Name!
That Name before which Angels bow the head!
Wise Christians worship—Dev'ls believe—and dread!
And will Ye—worse than Dolts! than Demons worse!
Defy your Maker? and provoke His curse?
Will Ye all Sense and Reason far forego,
To feel the shame of Fiends, and share their woe?
Will Ye presume, in Piety's despite,
And calls of Conscience, rob Him of His right?
Dare You appear before His bar arraign'd,
For breaking Heav'n's behest? Your King's command?
Dare You presume to give Your God offence?
And can You combat with Omnipotence?
Alas! look back! repent of every crime!
Nor more misuse Your talents, and Your time!
No more His Providence, and Pow'r, defy,
Who might, each moment, all your strength destroy!
Let Wit no longer scatter Flattery's flow'rs,
To hide that Serpent which such Souls devours!
Nor Falshood, in the cloak of Cunning furl'd,
Confound all Order in this nether World;
Much less abuse God's gift, by Speech profane,
Confronting Christ—confirming Satan's reign!
Flattery full oft becomes the Creature's rod,
But Oaths proclaim perpetual war with God!
Mankind may suffer from the force of Lies,
But Curses shoot their shafts against the Skies!
Where those the applications Heav'n decreed
To sanction Talk's discriminating meed?
True adaptation of God's gracious plan,
When speech was given to Man—and only Man?
Shall this distinctive gift be render'd vain?
Or what was meant for bliss be turn'd to bane?
Each borrow'd blast, of heav'n-inbosom'd breath,
Return, full-fraught with firebrands, darts, and death?
This proud monopoly! this mental feast!
Unshar'd—untasted—by the noblest Beast!
And, tho' pronounc'd by numerous breeds of Birds,
No purport's known to them, nor pow'rs of Words.
To sanction Talk's discriminating meed?
True adaptation of God's gracious plan,
When speech was given to Man—and only Man?
Shall this distinctive gift be render'd vain?
Or what was meant for bliss be turn'd to bane?
Each borrow'd blast, of heav'n-inbosom'd breath,
Return, full-fraught with firebrands, darts, and death?
This proud monopoly! this mental feast!
Unshar'd—untasted—by the noblest Beast!
And, tho' pronounc'd by numerous breeds of Birds,
No purport's known to them, nor pow'rs of Words.
Shall such celestial Talent—glorious Gift!
Blasphemers blast? or Demon set adrift?
Such Pow'r, superior—such exclusive Grace,
Conferr'd alone on Man's immortal Race!
Shall He disgrace this Grace? deprave this Pow'r?
Let Folly frustrate? or let Vice devour?
Let intellectual traffic—Souls exchange—
O'er all the Earth, o'er every Ocean, range,
To barter nought but flattery, oaths, and lies,
Instead of pious words, and precepts wise?
Instead of articles for Christians' use,
What Deists plan, and Infidels produce?
Instead of merchandise, most rich, and rare,
Truth's, Reason's, Wisdom's, and Religion's, ware;
Things in which Children, Dupes, and Ideots, trade,
Where Atheists offer what mere Sophists made?
Such vehicles, and vessels, fully fraught,
With toys which Wits contrived, and Villains wrought?
The flattering compliments that first give rise
To every Folly, Vanity, and Vice—
False Commerce carried on—smoothe Statesmen's Trade;
Which, deeply, Cities—Courts—and Camps—degrade;
Where, dress'd in outward white, Dark Demons lurk
In secret carrying on their wicked work.
And, first, the fond Imagination teach,
To utter specious tropes in suasive speech,
The substance all abominable Lies,
Wrapp'd up in silky, soft, and gilt, disguise—
The Courtier's passport to be call'd polite;
While flattering others, feeling Self-delight.
Where crafty fawning, subtle, Sycophant,
Looks well to Self in all his cunning cant.
The courtly Captain, his fulsome phrase,
Seeks round for smiles that speak some silent praise—
Half-Wits, for Puns—half-Poets, monstrous tropes—
Vile Orators, for nonsense, view like hopes—
Ev'n vulgar Fops for fresh-coin'd curse and oath
Expect applause from blackguard Apes in both.
But whether these be deem'd, in Camps, or Courts,
Polite accomplishments, or pleasing sports,
Or counted, in the Schools, sure signs of Sense,
Of Genius—Learning—Wit—or Eloquence—
Whate'er weak Mortals may such Converse call,
'Tis, clearly, Folly—Mischief—Madness—all!
Blasphemers blast? or Demon set adrift?
Such Pow'r, superior—such exclusive Grace,
Conferr'd alone on Man's immortal Race!
Shall He disgrace this Grace? deprave this Pow'r?
Let Folly frustrate? or let Vice devour?
Let intellectual traffic—Souls exchange—
O'er all the Earth, o'er every Ocean, range,
To barter nought but flattery, oaths, and lies,
Instead of pious words, and precepts wise?
Instead of articles for Christians' use,
What Deists plan, and Infidels produce?
Instead of merchandise, most rich, and rare,
Truth's, Reason's, Wisdom's, and Religion's, ware;
Things in which Children, Dupes, and Ideots, trade,
Where Atheists offer what mere Sophists made?
Such vehicles, and vessels, fully fraught,
With toys which Wits contrived, and Villains wrought?
The flattering compliments that first give rise
To every Folly, Vanity, and Vice—
False Commerce carried on—smoothe Statesmen's Trade;
Which, deeply, Cities—Courts—and Camps—degrade;
Where, dress'd in outward white, Dark Demons lurk
In secret carrying on their wicked work.
And, first, the fond Imagination teach,
To utter specious tropes in suasive speech,
The substance all abominable Lies,
Wrapp'd up in silky, soft, and gilt, disguise—
The Courtier's passport to be call'd polite;
While flattering others, feeling Self-delight.
Where crafty fawning, subtle, Sycophant,
Looks well to Self in all his cunning cant.
The courtly Captain, his fulsome phrase,
Seeks round for smiles that speak some silent praise—
Half-Wits, for Puns—half-Poets, monstrous tropes—
Vile Orators, for nonsense, view like hopes—
Ev'n vulgar Fops for fresh-coin'd curse and oath
Expect applause from blackguard Apes in both.
But whether these be deem'd, in Camps, or Courts,
Polite accomplishments, or pleasing sports,
121
Of Genius—Learning—Wit—or Eloquence—
Whate'er weak Mortals may such Converse call,
'Tis, clearly, Folly—Mischief—Madness—all!
Should Ships be freighted from the eastern Capes
With nought but Peacocks, Parrots, Monkeys, Apes;
Wild Beasts, or Cannibals, compose their spoils
From Afric's Coasts, or late discover'd Isles—
Or, from Columbian Land import, alone,
Each deadly Drug, or poisoning Simple, known;
And, with an ignorant, or an impish, Mind,
Disseminate the mass amongst Mankind.
Such Trade would stand all social Love's reverse,
Prove each Community's, and Merchant's curse;
And while the World such Nostrums could supply
All Health must yield, all Life at length must, die!
The Masters must be counted Satan's Tools,
The Traders, Vanity's, and Vice's, Fools;
Much more such Fools unfolding all their sails,
Regardless of fierce gusts, and fickle gales;
With all their valued Stock each Vessel stored,
Friends—Fortune—Family—Themselves—aboard!
Yet wilder still must those weak Minds appear,
Which, swift to speak, but ever slow to hear,
This wonderous faculty of Soul exert,
To their own ruin, and all others' hurt;
While on the passing breeze of every breath
They launch their everlasting Life, or Death!
Then let not Passion—Pride—or Folly, preach,
But faithful Reason, and Religion, teach—
Let Reason exercise full strength, and skill,
The duteous Offices of Life to fill—
Each word well weigh, each sentence well regard,
To win goodwill, and Conscience kind award!
And let Religion use her utmost might,
To govern Passion, Pride, and Appetite;
Conscious that every secret, silent, thought,
And idle word must be to judgment brought;
And, what should waken Man's reflections more
The Judge is alway standing at the door!
With nought but Peacocks, Parrots, Monkeys, Apes;
Wild Beasts, or Cannibals, compose their spoils
From Afric's Coasts, or late discover'd Isles—
Or, from Columbian Land import, alone,
Each deadly Drug, or poisoning Simple, known;
And, with an ignorant, or an impish, Mind,
Disseminate the mass amongst Mankind.
Such Trade would stand all social Love's reverse,
Prove each Community's, and Merchant's curse;
And while the World such Nostrums could supply
All Health must yield, all Life at length must, die!
The Masters must be counted Satan's Tools,
The Traders, Vanity's, and Vice's, Fools;
Much more such Fools unfolding all their sails,
Regardless of fierce gusts, and fickle gales;
With all their valued Stock each Vessel stored,
Friends—Fortune—Family—Themselves—aboard!
Yet wilder still must those weak Minds appear,
Which, swift to speak, but ever slow to hear,
This wonderous faculty of Soul exert,
To their own ruin, and all others' hurt;
While on the passing breeze of every breath
They launch their everlasting Life, or Death!
Then let not Passion—Pride—or Folly, preach,
But faithful Reason, and Religion, teach—
Let Reason exercise full strength, and skill,
The duteous Offices of Life to fill—
Each word well weigh, each sentence well regard,
To win goodwill, and Conscience kind award!
And let Religion use her utmost might,
To govern Passion, Pride, and Appetite;
Conscious that every secret, silent, thought,
And idle word must be to judgment brought;
And, what should waken Man's reflections more
The Judge is alway standing at the door!
Who then will thus pervert the pow'rs of Speech,
While words to Heav'n will rise! to Hell, may reach!
That faculty no subject Creature shares,
The privilege to speak with God by pray'rs;
Or, when rich Faith and Hope Affection raise,
Love pour before His footstool thanks and praise!
While words to Heav'n will rise! to Hell, may reach!
That faculty no subject Creature shares,
The privilege to speak with God by pray'rs;
Or, when rich Faith and Hope Affection raise,
Love pour before His footstool thanks and praise!
Shall Man, the sole proprietor of Words,
Affix no meaning more than mocking Birds?
Or throw that talent, like a toy, away,
In ideot squabble, or in childish play?
Will He presume to wate that wonderous dow'r,
In wild profusion, every waking hour?
To basest purposes that blessing press,
For Self-destruction, or for Friends' distress?
Will He, who wishes to be deem'd a God,
In Fools', or Madmen's footsteps daily plod?
With Flattery's trick Simplicity entice,
To grovel in the grossest sinks of Vice?
With cursed Scandal, or delirious Lie,
A Neighbour's noblest interests destroy?
With oaths and blasphemies blend every theme,
In daily converse, and in nightly dream;
Or laugh o'er tales obscene, and impious jests,
In bold defiance of Heav'n's high behests?
Affix no meaning more than mocking Birds?
Or throw that talent, like a toy, away,
In ideot squabble, or in childish play?
Will He presume to wate that wonderous dow'r,
In wild profusion, every waking hour?
To basest purposes that blessing press,
For Self-destruction, or for Friends' distress?
Will He, who wishes to be deem'd a God,
In Fools', or Madmen's footsteps daily plod?
With Flattery's trick Simplicity entice,
To grovel in the grossest sinks of Vice?
With cursed Scandal, or delirious Lie,
A Neighbour's noblest interests destroy?
With oaths and blasphemies blend every theme,
In daily converse, and in nightly dream;
Or laugh o'er tales obscene, and impious jests,
In bold defiance of Heav'n's high behests?
Shall Sense and Reason mutual strength unite,
To prove rash Folly has a filial right?
Acquireless Fancy, and instinctive Taste,
With Wit, intuitive, their talents waste,
To gratify Caprice's whiffling will?
Make Affectation more affected still?
Religion's lovely face with umber blur,
Till ugliest hypocrites appear like Her!
To prove rash Folly has a filial right?
Acquireless Fancy, and instinctive Taste,
With Wit, intuitive, their talents waste,
To gratify Caprice's whiffling will?
Make Affectation more affected still?
Religion's lovely face with umber blur,
Till ugliest hypocrites appear like Her!
Shall Genius lay her heav'n-strung Lyre aside
For brawling brazen Tube, to trumpet Pride?
Exchange pure pathos for trite fustian strain,
To render Vanity herself more vain?
Forsake the simple for elaborate lays,
To puff off Policy with Honour's praise?
Obtrude ten thousand epithets in Rhyme,
To make mean Ostentation seem sublime?
Deck Vice in splendid trope, and simile,
To make Her, heavenly Virtue! look like Thee?
Put on sweet Charity's celestial stole,
To hide Self-love, and littleness of Soul?
Spite, Hatred, Malice, cautiously conceal
With warm Benevolence's lucid veil?
Stripe Affectation o'er with rainbow-dyes,
And clothe proud Arrogance with Angels' guise?
Or Poetic-bullion smear o'er metals base,
Till burnish'd Cunning wears bright Candour's face?
Transform the Serpent to the faithful Dove,
By making Simulation smile like Love?
With Wisdom's lustre make Deception shine,
And dress frail Flesh with attributes Divine;
Shrouding with saintly cloke Satanic leav'n,
And cover Guilt with holiness like Heav'n?
'Twere offering mouldering Mummies pure perfumes—
'Twere painting, varnishing, and gilding, Tombs—
'Twere scattering Amaranths on funeral Biers;
Or hanging Diamonds on an Idol's ears—
'Twere worse—'twere worshipping an earthly Clod,
With adoration only due to God!!!
For brawling brazen Tube, to trumpet Pride?
Exchange pure pathos for trite fustian strain,
To render Vanity herself more vain?
Forsake the simple for elaborate lays,
To puff off Policy with Honour's praise?
Obtrude ten thousand epithets in Rhyme,
To make mean Ostentation seem sublime?
Deck Vice in splendid trope, and simile,
To make Her, heavenly Virtue! look like Thee?
Put on sweet Charity's celestial stole,
To hide Self-love, and littleness of Soul?
Spite, Hatred, Malice, cautiously conceal
With warm Benevolence's lucid veil?
Stripe Affectation o'er with rainbow-dyes,
And clothe proud Arrogance with Angels' guise?
Or Poetic-bullion smear o'er metals base,
Till burnish'd Cunning wears bright Candour's face?
Transform the Serpent to the faithful Dove,
By making Simulation smile like Love?
122
And dress frail Flesh with attributes Divine;
Shrouding with saintly cloke Satanic leav'n,
And cover Guilt with holiness like Heav'n?
'Twere offering mouldering Mummies pure perfumes—
'Twere painting, varnishing, and gilding, Tombs—
'Twere scattering Amaranths on funeral Biers;
Or hanging Diamonds on an Idol's ears—
'Twere worse—'twere worshipping an earthly Clod,
With adoration only due to God!!!
Could Crispin, when such wakening reasons rose
Lull rous'd Religion in supine repose?
Resolve each contradictious argument,
And give convicting Conscience full content?—
Could he have quench'd his Mind's religious light,
And stopt right Reason's true remarks, he might,
In spite of Heav'n—in spite of Christian Men,
He might have brandish'd, bold, the Poet's pen—
Have gain'd his Patronesses proud regard,
Have borne the honour, still, of household Bard;
Transform'd into a Lyre his rustic Reed,
And merited far more than Laureat's meed—
But he must then have modelled Mind anew,
And turn'd his Heart from all things right and true—
Made his tame Conscience truckle, like the tribes
Of Sycophants, that fawn, and bow, for bribes—
Imagination fill'd with fictions wild,
Till all the principles of Truth were spoil'd—
Till true Religion was possess'd no more,
And pure Morality turn'd out of door.
Then might his breast have harbour'd blessed hopes,
Among ten thousand similes, and tropes,
A wonderous Woman-Deity to draw,
Compounding all fond Fancy ever saw!
A Nondescript! more dignified, and great,
Than Her whom peacocks drew in Car of State,
More fair than Her that issued from the Main!
More bright than Her who burst her Father's brain!
A Goddess more majestic—sweet—and wise—
Than all who taught—seduced—and teiz'd,—the Skies!
Each beauteous charm, and attribute bestow'd,
To puff Protectress, in bold birth-day Ode.
Bedeck'd antique, with all bland airs of youth,
Maugre each hint of mortifying Truth—
In spite of Justice—Knowledge—Sense—and Sight—
Held fadeless Charms must still yield fresh delight!
How matchless Conduct counteracted Time—
Blazon'd each new-born year with Song sublime—
How each bright Virtue made His visage blythe,
While Wit, and Wisdom, stole his glass, and scythe!
Lull rous'd Religion in supine repose?
Resolve each contradictious argument,
And give convicting Conscience full content?—
Could he have quench'd his Mind's religious light,
And stopt right Reason's true remarks, he might,
In spite of Heav'n—in spite of Christian Men,
He might have brandish'd, bold, the Poet's pen—
Have gain'd his Patronesses proud regard,
Have borne the honour, still, of household Bard;
Transform'd into a Lyre his rustic Reed,
And merited far more than Laureat's meed—
But he must then have modelled Mind anew,
And turn'd his Heart from all things right and true—
Made his tame Conscience truckle, like the tribes
Of Sycophants, that fawn, and bow, for bribes—
Imagination fill'd with fictions wild,
Till all the principles of Truth were spoil'd—
Till true Religion was possess'd no more,
And pure Morality turn'd out of door.
Then might his breast have harbour'd blessed hopes,
Among ten thousand similes, and tropes,
A wonderous Woman-Deity to draw,
Compounding all fond Fancy ever saw!
A Nondescript! more dignified, and great,
Than Her whom peacocks drew in Car of State,
More fair than Her that issued from the Main!
More bright than Her who burst her Father's brain!
A Goddess more majestic—sweet—and wise—
Than all who taught—seduced—and teiz'd,—the Skies!
Each beauteous charm, and attribute bestow'd,
To puff Protectress, in bold birth-day Ode.
Bedeck'd antique, with all bland airs of youth,
Maugre each hint of mortifying Truth—
In spite of Justice—Knowledge—Sense—and Sight—
Held fadeless Charms must still yield fresh delight!
How matchless Conduct counteracted Time—
Blazon'd each new-born year with Song sublime—
How each bright Virtue made His visage blythe,
While Wit, and Wisdom, stole his glass, and scythe!
Had he pursued the scheme his Muse begun
And Her proud praise thro' annual Odes had run,
No querulous complaint had once been heard—
No lash been felt—no foul indictment fear'd:
No Pow'r had then oppress'd—no Malice blam'd—
No Pride insulted—no rude Passion sham'd—
Nor dauntless Falshood forg'd audacious Lies,
His head to puzzle, or his heart surprize!
Protected Crispin had experienc'd, still,
Her first affection, or her great good-will—
No Child been chasten'd, but with warmth caress'd,
And Daphne boasted, still, untroubl'd breast!
And Her proud praise thro' annual Odes had run,
No querulous complaint had once been heard—
No lash been felt—no foul indictment fear'd:
No Pow'r had then oppress'd—no Malice blam'd—
No Pride insulted—no rude Passion sham'd—
Nor dauntless Falshood forg'd audacious Lies,
His head to puzzle, or his heart surprize!
Protected Crispin had experienc'd, still,
Her first affection, or her great good-will—
No Child been chasten'd, but with warmth caress'd,
And Daphne boasted, still, untroubl'd breast!
Here qualms of Conscience made his heart demur;
He durst not pillage Heav'n to pamper Her;
Nor let his Muse attempt such impious height
But bridled back his Hobby's feathery flight—
He durst not chaunt such sacrilegious lays,
Nor pay proud Mortal pure Immortal's praise.
He durst not venture heavenly Pow'rs to mock,
Fearing the vengeful Vulture, Chain, and Rock;
But laid aside his once-presumptuous Lyre,
And let the Empyrean keep its fire.
No whip, or spur, would Inclination lend,
To speed the praise of metamorphos'd Friend,
While Sense lay smarting with continual strokes,
Of scorn sarcastic and ungenerous jokes;
The bays all stript before profusely spread,
In shining wreaths, around his humble head—
Long by her selfish suffrage borne, but now
All rudely ravish'd from his blushing brow;
While the bright mantle, Shenstone's shoulders bore,
O'er Crispin's, fondly, doubled on before,
Now from his back by frantic fury reft,
Not one poetic rag, or relique, left!
He durst not pillage Heav'n to pamper Her;
Nor let his Muse attempt such impious height
But bridled back his Hobby's feathery flight—
He durst not chaunt such sacrilegious lays,
Nor pay proud Mortal pure Immortal's praise.
He durst not venture heavenly Pow'rs to mock,
Fearing the vengeful Vulture, Chain, and Rock;
But laid aside his once-presumptuous Lyre,
And let the Empyrean keep its fire.
No whip, or spur, would Inclination lend,
To speed the praise of metamorphos'd Friend,
While Sense lay smarting with continual strokes,
Of scorn sarcastic and ungenerous jokes;
The bays all stript before profusely spread,
In shining wreaths, around his humble head—
Long by her selfish suffrage borne, but now
All rudely ravish'd from his blushing brow;
While the bright mantle, Shenstone's shoulders bore,
O'er Crispin's, fondly, doubled on before,
Now from his back by frantic fury reft,
Not one poetic rag, or relique, left!
Could honest Poesy, thus proudly stripp'd,
And oft, by Malice, for amusement, whipp'd;
A trembling, bleeding, Culprit-Bard, inspire,
To sing such Tyrant's fame with wonted fire?
A Muse, denuded, and degraded, so,
Still praise with glee—and still as promptly glow?
She must be mopish, or she must be mad,
Thus robb'd of every favourite robe she had;
Or act the Hypocrite, with smirking face;
The honest Muse's, honest Man's, disgrace!
And oft, by Malice, for amusement, whipp'd;
A trembling, bleeding, Culprit-Bard, inspire,
To sing such Tyrant's fame with wonted fire?
A Muse, denuded, and degraded, so,
Still praise with glee—and still as promptly glow?
She must be mopish, or she must be mad,
123
Or act the Hypocrite, with smirking face;
The honest Muse's, honest Man's, disgrace!
The Muses all are females—fond of dress—
None can a Female Robber's hands caress—
Woman's delight is love, in every shape;
But all her Soul abhors a savage rape.
None can a Female Robber's hands caress—
Woman's delight is love, in every shape;
But all her Soul abhors a savage rape.
Would courtly Ladies like sarcastic scoff,
While Pow'r, imperious, tore their trinkets off?
Insulted, so, e'er more at Court be seen,
And pay like prompt respects to squabbling Queen?
Suppress all spleen when told, in taunting way,
School-miss could compliment as well as They—
Or, in the Ball-room, urge their happiest airs,
Assur'd such Minx's minuets equall'd Their's?
While Pow'r, imperious, tore their trinkets off?
Insulted, so, e'er more at Court be seen,
And pay like prompt respects to squabbling Queen?
Suppress all spleen when told, in taunting way,
School-miss could compliment as well as They—
Or, in the Ball-room, urge their happiest airs,
Assur'd such Minx's minuets equall'd Their's?
Would Poet-laureat mount his Pegasus,
And search the World for tropes, when treated thus?
Bring loads of Nectar and Ambrosia back,
When Patron stops his Salary, and Sack?
Still chearful chaunt, while waspish Prince explodes
All inspiration in his annual Odes?
It cannot be—his flying Steed must flag,
When treated thus, like penny Postboy's Nag—
His Muse no more at lofty numbers aim,
Nor fan her kindling fire to lambent flame,
But throw quite by the panegyric pen
And let the Monarch die like other Men.
And search the World for tropes, when treated thus?
Bring loads of Nectar and Ambrosia back,
When Patron stops his Salary, and Sack?
Still chearful chaunt, while waspish Prince explodes
All inspiration in his annual Odes?
It cannot be—his flying Steed must flag,
When treated thus, like penny Postboy's Nag—
His Muse no more at lofty numbers aim,
Nor fan her kindling fire to lambent flame,
But throw quite by the panegyric pen
And let the Monarch die like other Men.
The simplest Songster, of the feather'd throng,
Witholds the tribute of his twittering Song,
When his almighty Master strips his plumes,
And shuts out sunshine with his wint'ry glooms,
Till vernal radiance renovates the Skies,
When wonted kindness kindles genuine joys:
So when some Female, with weak, fickle, Mind,
Hath whistling Warbler to a cage confin'd,
And there, ungracious, all his hopes betrays,
Curtails his pinions, and restrains her praise;
Still adding cruel, persecuting, pains,
He stops, at once, his wild, untutor'd strains—
For unlike Nature's universal Friend,
Her favour ceas'd, his songs for ever end!
Witholds the tribute of his twittering Song,
When his almighty Master strips his plumes,
And shuts out sunshine with his wint'ry glooms,
Till vernal radiance renovates the Skies,
When wonted kindness kindles genuine joys:
So when some Female, with weak, fickle, Mind,
Hath whistling Warbler to a cage confin'd,
And there, ungracious, all his hopes betrays,
Curtails his pinions, and restrains her praise;
Still adding cruel, persecuting, pains,
He stops, at once, his wild, untutor'd strains—
For unlike Nature's universal Friend,
Her favour ceas'd, his songs for ever end!
|
CHAPTER 6th.
The Life and Poetical Works of James Woodhouse | |