The Poetical Works of the Ingenious and Learned William Meston ::

From happy climes, where virtue never dies
The much mistaken Cato's forc'd to rise,
Drawn on the stage to patronize a cause,
Which living Cato could not but oppose;
With artful smiles the charming pages shine,
And treason mounts on each brocaded line.

Oh! Addison, could'st thou not be content
To sacrifice good sense and argument?
Had'st thou no other way to raise they fame
And fortune, but by wounding Cato's name?
Mean and injurious! had but Cato liv'd
In Britain's happy isle, how had he griev'd?
Griev'd for a King, struggling in storms of fate,
And greatly falling with a falling state.
So busy rebels, when they would delude
The honest unsuspecting multitude,
Grace their rebellion with a Patriot's name,
And work their story in the finest frame.

Britons, attend; be Cato's sense approv'd,
And shew that you have virtue to be mov'd,
That sacred plan of power, deliver'd down
From age to age, from father unto son,
Is each man's rule of action, and had he
Been subject to a King's authority,
Ev'n Cato's self had been for monarchy.

The field which honour moves in is not wide,
The law's her warrant, wisdom is her guide,
All else is frenzy, madness all beside.
Britons, believe it, tho' the day seems fair,
Tempests and storms are gathering in the air;
Oppression, pow'r usurp'd, and tyranny,
Can never have a long prosperity;

167

Some weighty vengeance, some chos'n curse, be sure,
Some hidden thunder in the heav'nly store,
Is now discharging on the heads of those
Who dare aspire above their country's laws.
Ambitious Demons wait their fall below,
Cæsar and Cromwel, and the proud Nassau.
Britons, be just, nor sell your honesty,
Nor look on grandeur with a dazzl'd eye.
Cæsar had all the winning courtly ways,
Cæsar had balls, and Cæsar went to plays;
Cæsar could whore and rant, and drink and sight,
Cæsar had gold, but Cæsar had no right.
This was the cause of Rome; consider well,
If Britain be not just a parallel.
But will you wanton in your misery,
And for diversion sell your liberty?
You see the man in a false glaring light,
Which empire shades on him; but, view him right,
You'll find him black with crimes of deepest dye,
Murder, Usurpation, and tyranny.
OH! Where's the ancient Briton's genius fled?
Are justice, honour, virtue, bravery, dead?
Shall tyrants revel upon British store,
Whilst rightful Princes beg from door to door?
Shall the sole Prince left of the royal blood,
Be forc'd from court to court to sue for food,
Whilst the usurper, impiously great,
Plumes with the pompous ornaments of state,
And lavishes away the Heir's estate?
Britons, for shame! behold the wondrous youth,
With how much care he forms himself to truth!
How just, how brave, how generous, how wise,
How good he is, without the least disguise!

168

Nor all the Ills that cover, can obscure.
The rising glory of the royal power;
With radiant force, it breaks thro' clouds of night,
And blazes more illustriously bright.
Such is your Prince; how can you then be slaves
To madmen, fools, whores, foreigners and knaves?
Rise, Britain, rise! your King demands your aid,
God and St. George, can Britain be affraid?
In such a cause break thro' the thick array
Of the usurping guard, and force your way;
Some lucky hand, more favour'd than the rest,
May charge him home, and reach th'usurper's breast.
Th'attempt is worthy of the noblest hand,
Th'attempt may every British heart command.
Improve the lucky hour, assert your laws,
Nor fear to die in such a glorious cause:
Cato's experience in the world of bliss,
Assures your everlasting happiness.
There, the brave youth, with love of virtue fir'd,
Who greatly in his country's cause expir'd,
Shall know he conquer'd; the firm Patriot, there,
Who made the welfare of mankind his care,
Tho' still by faction, vice and fortune crost,
Shall find his generous labour was not lost.

University of Virginia Library

CATO's GHOST.