 | Poems on Several Occasions |  |
245
The STROLLING HERO.
Of Kings and Queens a buskin'd Troop
On foot—Can Kings thus lowly stoop!—
In quest of food and fame,
To where the Tyne reflecting shows,
Gateshead's proud buildings, as its flows,
From Scotia's borders came.
On foot—Can Kings thus lowly stoop!—
In quest of food and fame,
To where the Tyne reflecting shows,
Gateshead's proud buildings, as its flows,
From Scotia's borders came.
But Gateshead's Sons, a tasteless breed,
Regardless of those Kings from Tweed,
No friendly homage pay;
Without their Subjects' aid, alas,
Ev'n Monarchs of the highest class
Can neither sing nor say.
Regardless of those Kings from Tweed,
No friendly homage pay;
Without their Subjects' aid, alas,
Ev'n Monarchs of the highest class
Can neither sing nor say.
Arm link'd in arm, with hideous glare,
Comes Poverty with fell Despair,
And stares 'em in the face;
Great Hamlet soon for want of bail,
Is seiz'd, and hurry'd to a jail,
Unparallel'd disgrace!—
Comes Poverty with fell Despair,
And stares 'em in the face;
Great Hamlet soon for want of bail,
Is seiz'd, and hurry'd to a jail,
Unparallel'd disgrace!—
Horatio, Hamlet's Friend sincere,
Hearing the tidings, drops a tear,
And to the prison flies;
The Partner of his Prince's bed,
With two poor Babes, half-cloath'd, worse fed,
He there, heart-stung, espies.
Hearing the tidings, drops a tear,
And to the prison flies;
The Partner of his Prince's bed,
With two poor Babes, half-cloath'd, worse fed,
He there, heart-stung, espies.
246
“Let banish'd Hope, on pinion fleet,
“Within your soul resume her seat,
“I come to set you free;
“To Me it small avails what Lot,
“Nor Queen or Princelins have I got
“To wail my destiny.
“Within your soul resume her seat,
“I come to set you free;
“To Me it small avails what Lot,
“Nor Queen or Princelins have I got
“To wail my destiny.
“To serve my Country and my King,
“I'll strait enlist—'twill succour bring
“To set my Prince at large;”—
Hamlet with tears conjures his stay,
In vain—Horatio wings away
To gain his Friend's discharge.
“I'll strait enlist—'twill succour bring
“To set my Prince at large;”—
Hamlet with tears conjures his stay,
In vain—Horatio wings away
To gain his Friend's discharge.
Instant he lists—nor joy admits,
Till durance frightful Hamlet quits,
With gratitude opprest;—
What Conq'ror ever yet was known,
In whom the Hero brighter shone,
Than in Horatio's breast?—
Till durance frightful Hamlet quits,
With gratitude opprest;—
What Conq'ror ever yet was known,
In whom the Hero brighter shone,
Than in Horatio's breast?—
Learn, Grandeur, hence, no more to scorn
Brethren, at humble distance born;—
Wide shoots fair Virtue's stem:—
Nor Title, Rank, or Wealth bestows
True Honor—in the bosom glows
Alone—that prizeless Gem.
Brethren, at humble distance born;—
Wide shoots fair Virtue's stem:—
Nor Title, Rank, or Wealth bestows
True Honor—in the bosom glows
Alone—that prizeless Gem.
| Poems on Several Occasions | |