 | Poems on Several Occasions |  |
322
THE PATRIOT.
When publick Debts make publick Taxes rise,
And threaten'd War demands enlarg'd Supplies,
Wilt Thou, O W--- for one Year, assign,
To sinking Funds those Perquisites of thine?
N---, T---, to be truly Great,
Say, Will ye serve, unhir'd, the British State?
Wilt thou, A---, as ancient Heroes fought,
Court glorious Wounds, and lead our Arms for Nought?
Or, wou'd ye, Ch--- and P---, boast
More generous Conduct, did ye rule the Roast?
Wou'd R---, C---, and L---, glow
With nobler Flame, and greater Virtue show?
O---, and M---, and St---, once were in---
Wou'd they not be what they've already been?
And who expects to find a Patriot true,
In faithless W---, and a perjur'd Crew?
And threaten'd War demands enlarg'd Supplies,
Wilt Thou, O W--- for one Year, assign,
To sinking Funds those Perquisites of thine?
N---, T---, to be truly Great,
Say, Will ye serve, unhir'd, the British State?
Wilt thou, A---, as ancient Heroes fought,
Court glorious Wounds, and lead our Arms for Nought?
Or, wou'd ye, Ch--- and P---, boast
More generous Conduct, did ye rule the Roast?
323
With nobler Flame, and greater Virtue show?
O---, and M---, and St---, once were in---
Wou'd they not be what they've already been?
And who expects to find a Patriot true,
In faithless W---, and a perjur'd Crew?
Ah! where's our boasted national Regard?
Who looks on Virtue as its own Reward?
Where is the Briton, who, with generous Heart,
Will keep his Place—but with its Profits part?
To ease the Publick, where, O where's the Man,
Who lives on just as little as he can?
Will serve the King and Country with his Blood?
And lose his All to gain the common Good?
Who looks on Virtue as its own Reward?
Where is the Briton, who, with generous Heart,
Will keep his Place—but with its Profits part?
To ease the Publick, where, O where's the Man,
Who lives on just as little as he can?
Will serve the King and Country with his Blood?
And lose his All to gain the common Good?
324
Of Greeks and Romans, but remains the Name!
And shall the World be robb'd of British Fame?
The present Age extinguish ancient Fire?
And publick Zeal and Liberty expire?
Ah! must the Tale in future Times be told?
And Sons, unborn, their Fathers Shame behold?
Shall Strangers see the British Annals fill'd
With Names, more odious than a B---t, or Wild?
And shall the World be robb'd of British Fame?
The present Age extinguish ancient Fire?
And publick Zeal and Liberty expire?
Ah! must the Tale in future Times be told?
And Sons, unborn, their Fathers Shame behold?
Shall Strangers see the British Annals fill'd
With Names, more odious than a B---t, or Wild?
At length, awake; and, with united Zeal,
Assert the Interests of the publick Weal:
Be brave in Arms—but at the least Expence;
Nor think it Hardship, in your Land's Defence.
And ye, who want not Means enough to live,
Salaries and Pensions to the Publick give:
What glorious Patriots will the Britons be,
Who, like their Sires, unsordid, brave, and free,
Superfluous Wealth and Luxury cashier,
To aid the sinking Fund, and set the Nation clear!
Assert the Interests of the publick Weal:
Be brave in Arms—but at the least Expence;
Nor think it Hardship, in your Land's Defence.
And ye, who want not Means enough to live,
Salaries and Pensions to the Publick give:
325
Who, like their Sires, unsordid, brave, and free,
Superfluous Wealth and Luxury cashier,
To aid the sinking Fund, and set the Nation clear!
Vain Wish! vain Summons to a People, nurst
In factious Times, and with Corruption curst!
Who, but a God, can fix our reeling State,
Unite our Hearts, and make us truly great?
These Ends Herculean Virtues might attain—
But, ah! we look for Saviours, now, in vain!
All seek their own; and publick Welfare love,
But for Themselves, and as their Interests move!
Extravagance and Luxury prevail,
And, every Day, the Patriot Virtues fail!
In factious Times, and with Corruption curst!
Who, but a God, can fix our reeling State,
Unite our Hearts, and make us truly great?
These Ends Herculean Virtues might attain—
But, ah! we look for Saviours, now, in vain!
All seek their own; and publick Welfare love,
But for Themselves, and as their Interests move!
Extravagance and Luxury prevail,
And, every Day, the Patriot Virtues fail!
326
Once, O Britannia, Heroes were thy Pride—
A Single Worthy spread his Influence wide:
One Godlike Genius, of the Patriot Race,
New-moulded Men, and chang'd a Nation's Face!
In darkest Times thy Caractatus shone,
And Rome admir'd the Glories of thy Son!
—But, in one Age, the Phoenix scarce appears!
Timoleons breathe not every Thousand Years!
How long ere matchless Guardian Wallace came?
No Hireling Patriot He! and next to none, in Fame!
A Single Worthy spread his Influence wide:
One Godlike Genius, of the Patriot Race,
New-moulded Men, and chang'd a Nation's Face!
In darkest Times thy Caractatus shone,
And Rome admir'd the Glories of thy Son!
—But, in one Age, the Phoenix scarce appears!
Timoleons breathe not every Thousand Years!
How long ere matchless Guardian Wallace came?
No Hireling Patriot He! and next to none, in Fame!
Then, O ye Shades, with deathless Glories crown'd!
Ye British Ghosts, in Annals long renown'd!
If, in your blest Elysium, ye can find
One leisure Hour to think of Human Kind;
If, mindful of your once lov'd Race and Isle,
Ye can suspend your Happiness a while;
Inspire new Forms, or your old Flesh resume,
To crush Corruption, and strike Faction dumb,
Else selfish Souls our common Rights will rend,
And sacrifice Britannia in the End!
Ye British Ghosts, in Annals long renown'd!
If, in your blest Elysium, ye can find
One leisure Hour to think of Human Kind;
327
Ye can suspend your Happiness a while;
Inspire new Forms, or your old Flesh resume,
To crush Corruption, and strike Faction dumb,
Else selfish Souls our common Rights will rend,
And sacrifice Britannia in the End!
'Twas thus, at once, the ancient Roman Boast,
Their noble Spirit, and their Reign, were lost!
An easy Prey the wretched Sons became,
In whose Corruptions sunk the Fathers Fame!
Their noble Spirit, and their Reign, were lost!
An easy Prey the wretched Sons became,
In whose Corruptions sunk the Fathers Fame!
Already, lo! the Goths and Vandals waste
Our manly Sense, and Liberty, and Taste!
See! how the great and generous Arts decay!
Behold! our boasted Genius falls a Prey!
Unnatural Postures, and effeminate Airs,
And queer Grimace, are National Affairs!
Alike, the Court, the Soldier, and the Cit,
Admires Buffoonry, and takes Tricks for Wit!
Loves foreign Follies, doats on foreign Fools,
Aliens to Sense, to Nature, and to Rules!
While our neglected Muses fly the Field,
The vanquish'd triumph, and the Victors yield!
Our manly Sense, and Liberty, and Taste!
See! how the great and generous Arts decay!
Behold! our boasted Genius falls a Prey!
328
And queer Grimace, are National Affairs!
Alike, the Court, the Soldier, and the Cit,
Admires Buffoonry, and takes Tricks for Wit!
Loves foreign Follies, doats on foreign Fools,
Aliens to Sense, to Nature, and to Rules!
While our neglected Muses fly the Field,
The vanquish'd triumph, and the Victors yield!
Sleep, sleep, ye Ghosts, unconscious of our Taste,
By Show deluded, and by Sound debas'd!
Ah! look not on your Sons, degenerate grown,
Nor, in our Features, think to trace your own.
Nothing, with you, but what was Just, was good;
And nothing lik'd but what was understood;
Alike, to Arts and Artists ye were kind,
And most, rejoyc'd in Pleasures of the Mind;
Maintain'd no Follies at a vast Expence,
Nor pay'd to Sound the due Reward of Sense;
Pleas'd with your Native Wit, and Arts, and Arms,
Ye kept your Gold at Home, nor courted Foreign Charms.
By Show deluded, and by Sound debas'd!
Ah! look not on your Sons, degenerate grown,
Nor, in our Features, think to trace your own.
Nothing, with you, but what was Just, was good;
And nothing lik'd but what was understood;
Alike, to Arts and Artists ye were kind,
And most, rejoyc'd in Pleasures of the Mind;
329
Nor pay'd to Sound the due Reward of Sense;
Pleas'd with your Native Wit, and Arts, and Arms,
Ye kept your Gold at Home, nor courted Foreign Charms.
But ye were Giants! Ah! what Pigmies we!
How different far from Britons, Britons be?
Ye bravely fought, and gave the Nation Fame,
And judg'd the Fate of Arts and Arms the same!
We lose our Spirit, baffle Reason's Rules,
And to be fashionable, will be Fools!
How are we fal'n! Is this th' Effect of Peace?
For this did Marlb'rough's conquering Legions cease?
Is this the Way our Glory to maintain?
Ah! can we thus the Youth for Battle Train?
Already, are the publick Debts discharg'd,
Since Luxury's wide Bounds are much enlarg'd?
Are South-Sea Breaches then repair'd at last?
Or why, on Trifles, all this Treasure's Waste?
How different far from Britons, Britons be?
Ye bravely fought, and gave the Nation Fame,
And judg'd the Fate of Arts and Arms the same!
We lose our Spirit, baffle Reason's Rules,
And to be fashionable, will be Fools!
How are we fal'n! Is this th' Effect of Peace?
For this did Marlb'rough's conquering Legions cease?
Is this the Way our Glory to maintain?
Ah! can we thus the Youth for Battle Train?
Already, are the publick Debts discharg'd,
Since Luxury's wide Bounds are much enlarg'd?
330
Or why, on Trifles, all this Treasure's Waste?
But, Muse, be hush, and better learn the Right—:
Can Errors dwell with People so polite?
Wou'd Beaus and Belles, the Glory of the Age,
Consent to Folly, and in Vice engage?
Such Folks as we can no Instruction want:
Shakespeare and Otway are the Poets Cant.
Our Sires were dull, unpolish'd, unrefin'd—
Poor Souls, they hugg'd the Pleasures of the Mind!
They ne'er a charming Senesino had,
Nor knew the Blessing of a Masquerade!
Never to Them a Heidegger gave Law!
They ne'er a Fawks and Violante saw!
Alas! poor Men, they liv'd and dy'd unblest!
And reckon'd Farce and Pantomime a Jest!
More happy, and much wiser, we have found
Glories, that cou'd not breed on British Ground!
We Contradictions reconcile, at once,
By Recipe's from Italy and France!
Imported Pleasures, of the softer Kind,
New-mould our Genius, and reform the Mind!
Posterity will [OMITTED]
Can Errors dwell with People so polite?
Wou'd Beaus and Belles, the Glory of the Age,
Consent to Folly, and in Vice engage?
Such Folks as we can no Instruction want:
Shakespeare and Otway are the Poets Cant.
Our Sires were dull, unpolish'd, unrefin'd—
Poor Souls, they hugg'd the Pleasures of the Mind!
They ne'er a charming Senesino had,
Nor knew the Blessing of a Masquerade!
Never to Them a Heidegger gave Law!
They ne'er a Fawks and Violante saw!
Alas! poor Men, they liv'd and dy'd unblest!
And reckon'd Farce and Pantomime a Jest!
331
Glories, that cou'd not breed on British Ground!
We Contradictions reconcile, at once,
By Recipe's from Italy and France!
Imported Pleasures, of the softer Kind,
New-mould our Genius, and reform the Mind!
Posterity will [OMITTED]
Desunt Cætera.
| Poems on Several Occasions | |