University of Virginia Library

IV.

Another passage:

The sun-burnt vet'ran from ill fated wars
Victorious comes—with poverty and fears,
Flies to his long forsaken home, to find
The dear, dear pledges he had left behind:
But ah! his wife, all grace, and beauty fled,
Scarce owns the once-lov'd partner of her bed;
Th'affrighted children stare, and shift their ground,
Nor read their sire through many a glorious wound:
The big tear starting, as he tries to tell
How his lov'd friends, and fellow-soldiers fell;
“On Minden's plains, how smoke obscur'd the day,
How heaps on heaps, in slaughter'd thousands lay;
Till Mars no more the horrid carnage stood,
And neighbouring streams ran purple with their blood.
Yet blest, tho' many a widow'd fair must moan,
While freedom sits securely on her throne!
Content let's bear our little private woes,
While she maintains her empire in repose.
But ah, should slaves abuse a monarch's ear,
(A monarch so belov'd, so justly dear
To ev'ry virtuous breast) should slaves accurst
Beneath the shade at home in plenty nurst,
Whilst we half starv'd, have bled at ev'ry vein,
Should slaves like these ill-boding favour gain!
By these our wounds, our services forgot,
Should base dismission be the vet'ran's lot!
Condemn'd like Oglethorpe, to prove forlorn,
Each toil repaid with indigence and scorn!
Now left with years and injuries t'engage,
The Belisarius of a thankless age!
Yet this I'd bear—but ah! should freedom feel
Their hellish pow'r, and from the centre reel,
Weak—tott'ring on her throne—but hold, refrain—
Lest dire distraction seize the madding brain!
Too raving fancy, urge not thus a thought,
Far worse than death, with all his horrors fraught!
How shall I curse the malice of my stars,
Safe 'mid the perils of destructive wars
To guard my harass'd life—that I should foil
The various ills of hunger, thirst, and toil;
And when I hop'd to reap the hard-earn'd bliss,
To blast my eye-sight with a shock like this!”
Thus the brave chief—his wife with tear-swoln eyes
Hangs on his hand, and answers with her sighs;
The children, list'ning to the mournful tale,
Till nature's feelings o'er their fears prevail,
Wishful draw near, and bolder by degrees,
Twine round his neck, and gambol on his knees.