University of Virginia Library

FRAGMENTS FROM “CORRUPTION”

I.

Lines from the Dedicatory Address to Earl Temple:

“For me, long lost to all the world holds dear,
No hopes can flatter, and no suns can cheer;
Sickness and sorrow, with united rage,
In early youth have wreak'd the ills of age:
This all my wish—(since earthly joys are flown)
To sigh unseen—to live and die alone.”

II.

In England, Shaw sees nothing but.

III.

Other lines:

To break the tenor of this sad repose,
Say what could rouse me but my country's woes?
But thus to see vice stalk in open day,
With shameless front, and universal sway!
To view proud villains drive the gilded car,
Deck'd with the spoils and ravages of war!
Whose ill-got wealth shifted from hand to hand,
With vice and want have delug'd all the land;
'Tis satire's only to avenge the cause,
On those that 'scape from Tyburn and the laws;
Drag forth each knave conspicuous and confest,
And hang them high—as scare-crows for the rest!
Let this grand object claim my every care,
And chase the sullen demon of despair,
(When passion fires us for the common weal,
For private griefs 'twere infamous to feel)
Till my full heart, disburden'd of its freight,
No more shall swell and heave beneath the weight;
This duteous tribute to my country paid,
Welcome pale sorrow and the silent shade!
From glory's standard yet should all retire,
And none be found to fan the generous fire;
No patriot soul to justify the song,
And urge its precepts on the slumbering throng;
In vain to virtue have I form'd the strain,
An angel's tongue might plead her cause in vain.
Some lone retreat I'll seek unknown to fame,
Nor hear the very echo of their shame;
Conscience shall pay me for the world's regret,
And Heav'n approve what mortals dare reject.

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.