University of Virginia Library

In distant regions, Freedom's last retreat,
Where Rome and she their final crisis wait,
Cato reflects how much he once was blest,
And greets with health the fav'rite of his breast.

Oh! when my soul with retrospective eyes
Beholds each scene of past enjoyment rise,
Ere vice and Heav'n's irrevocable doom
Shook the firm basis of imperial Rome,
What horrors must this patriot heart congeal!
What must a father and an husband feel!
Ye moments, destin'd to eternal flight,
Who shone on each domestic blessing bright,
Who saw me with earth's legislators join'd,
Balance the sacred rights of human kind,
No more my soul your bless'd return must know,
Consign'd to fetters, infamy and wo;
Expell'd from Rome, and all that's dear, we fly
Through fruitless deserts, and a flaming sky,
Where thunders roar incessant, lightnings glare,
And plagues unnumber'd taint the boundless air;
Where serpents, children of eternal night,
Ensure perdition with their mortal bite;
Where burning sands to heav'n in surges roll,
And scorching heats evaporate the soul.
Yet pleas'd these harsh extremes of fate we bear;
For Liberty, Heav'n's noblest gift, is here.
Unaw'd by pow'r, from venal shackles free,
Our hands accomplish what our hearts decree.
Yet here, where anguish, want, and horror reign,
The heav'nly power explores a seat in vain.
Ambitious blood-hounds hold her close in view,
Faithful to scent, and active to pursue.
See o'er the spacious globe their course they bend;
See conquest and success their steps attend.
Oceans in vain to stop their passage flow,
And mountains rise in everlasting snow.
Obsequious billows own tyrannic sway,
And storms have learn'd to flatter and obey.
Eternal Pow'rs! whose will is Nature's guide,
Who o'er high heav'n and earth and hell preside,
Must then that plan of liberty expire,
Which patriot bosoms more than life desire?
Is public happiness for ever fled,
For which the sage explor'd and hero bled?
Shall Pompey's blood the coast of Egypt stain?
Shall civil slaughter load Pharsalia's plain?
With reeking gore shall plunder'd temples flow?
Is Jove or Cæsar god of all below?
Be curs'd the time when Pleasure and her train,
O'er Rome extended first their fatal reign;
For O! 'twas then, in that detested hour,
That first the lust of treasure and of power
From public welfare could our views divert,
And quench each virtue in the human heart.