The Poetical works of Wm. Falconer With the life of the author. Cooke's Edition. Embellished with superb engravings |
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| POEMS. |
 | The Poetical works of Wm. Falconer |  |
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POEMS.
AN ADDRESS TO MIRANDA.
The smiling plains, profusely gay,
Are dress'd in all the pride of May;
The birds on every spray above
To rapture wake the vocal grove.
Are dress'd in all the pride of May;
The birds on every spray above
To rapture wake the vocal grove.
But ah! Miranda! without thee,
Nor spring nor summer smiles on me:
All lonely in the secret shade,
I mourn thy absence, charming maid!
Nor spring nor summer smiles on me:
All lonely in the secret shade,
I mourn thy absence, charming maid!
O soft as love! as honour fair!
Serenely sweet as vernal air!
Come to my arms; for you alone
Can all my absence past atone.
Serenely sweet as vernal air!
Come to my arms; for you alone
Can all my absence past atone.
O come! and to my bleeding heart
Thy sovereign balm of love impart;
Thy presence lasting joy shall bring,
And give the year eternal spring!
Thy sovereign balm of love impart;
Thy presence lasting joy shall bring,
And give the year eternal spring!
SACRED TO THE MEMORY OF HIS ROYAL HIGHNESS FREDERICK, PRINCE OF WALES.
From the big horror of war's hoarse alarms,
And the tremendous clang of clashing arms,
Descend, my Muse! a deeper scene to draw
(A scene will hold the listening world in awe )
Is my intent: Melpomene inspire,
While, with sad notes, I strike the trembling lyre:
And may my lines with easy motions flow,
Melt as they move, and fill each heart with woe:
Big with the sorrow it describes, my song,
In silent pomp, majestic, move along.
And the tremendous clang of clashing arms,
Descend, my Muse! a deeper scene to draw
(A scene will hold the listening world in awe )
Is my intent: Melpomene inspire,
While, with sad notes, I strike the trembling lyre:
And may my lines with easy motions flow,
Melt as they move, and fill each heart with woe:
Big with the sorrow it describes, my song,
In silent pomp, majestic, move along.
Oh! bear me to some awful, silent glade,
Where cedars form an unremitting shade;
Where never track of human feet was known;
Where never cheerful light of Phœbus shone;
Where chirping linnets warble tales of love,
And hoarser winds howl murm'ring thro' the grove;
Where some unhappy wretch ay mourns his doom,
Deep melancholy wand'ring thro' the gloom;
Where solitude and meditation roam,
And where no dawning glimpse of hope can come:
Place me in such an unfrequented shade,
To speak to none but with the mighty dead;
T'assist the pouring rains with brimful eyes,
And aid hoarse howling Boreas with my sighs.
When winter's horrors left Britannia's isle,
And spring in blooming verdure 'gan to smile;
When rills unbound began to purl along,
And warbling larks renew'd the vernal song;
When sprouting roses, deck'd in crimson dye,
Began to bloom—
Hard fate! then, noble Fred'ric didst thou die:
Doom'd by inexorable Fate's decree,
Th' approaching summer ne'er on earth to see:
In thy parch'd vitals burning fevers rage,
Whose flame the virtue of no herbs assuage;
No cooling med'cine can its heat allay,
Relentless destiny cries, “No delay.”
Ye pow'rs! and must a prince so noble die?
(Whose equal breathes not under th' ambient sky;)
Ah! must he die, then, in youth's full-blown prime,
Cut by the scythe of all devouring time?
Yes; fate has doom'd! his soul now leaves its weight,
And all are under the decree of fate;
Th' irrevocable doom of destiny
Pronounc'd, All mortals must submissive die.
The princes wait around with weeping eyes,
And the dome echoes all with piercing cries:
With doleful noise the matrons scream around,
With female shrieks the vaulted roofs rebound:
A dismal noise! Now one promiscuous roar
Cries—“Ah! the noble Fred'ric is no more!”
The chief reluctant yields his latest breath;
His eye-lids settle in the shades of death:
Dark sable shades present before each eye,
And the deep vast abyss, eternity!
Through perpetuity's expanse he springs;
And o'er the vast profound he shoots on wings:
The soul to distant regions steers her flight,
And sails incumbent on inferior night:
With vast celerity she shoots away,
And meets the regions of eternal day,
To shine for ever in the heav'nly birth,
And leave the body here to rot on earth.
The melancholy patriots round it wait,
And mourn the royal hero's timeless sate.
Disconsolate they move, a mournful band!
In mournful pomp they march along the strand:
The noble chief interr'd in youthful bloom,
Lies in the dreary regions of the tomb.
Where cedars form an unremitting shade;
Where never track of human feet was known;
Where never cheerful light of Phœbus shone;
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And hoarser winds howl murm'ring thro' the grove;
Where some unhappy wretch ay mourns his doom,
Deep melancholy wand'ring thro' the gloom;
Where solitude and meditation roam,
And where no dawning glimpse of hope can come:
Place me in such an unfrequented shade,
To speak to none but with the mighty dead;
T'assist the pouring rains with brimful eyes,
And aid hoarse howling Boreas with my sighs.
When winter's horrors left Britannia's isle,
And spring in blooming verdure 'gan to smile;
When rills unbound began to purl along,
And warbling larks renew'd the vernal song;
When sprouting roses, deck'd in crimson dye,
Began to bloom—
Hard fate! then, noble Fred'ric didst thou die:
Doom'd by inexorable Fate's decree,
Th' approaching summer ne'er on earth to see:
In thy parch'd vitals burning fevers rage,
Whose flame the virtue of no herbs assuage;
No cooling med'cine can its heat allay,
Relentless destiny cries, “No delay.”
Ye pow'rs! and must a prince so noble die?
(Whose equal breathes not under th' ambient sky;)
Ah! must he die, then, in youth's full-blown prime,
Cut by the scythe of all devouring time?
Yes; fate has doom'd! his soul now leaves its weight,
And all are under the decree of fate;
Th' irrevocable doom of destiny
Pronounc'd, All mortals must submissive die.
The princes wait around with weeping eyes,
And the dome echoes all with piercing cries:
With doleful noise the matrons scream around,
With female shrieks the vaulted roofs rebound:
A dismal noise! Now one promiscuous roar
Cries—“Ah! the noble Fred'ric is no more!”
The chief reluctant yields his latest breath;
His eye-lids settle in the shades of death:
Dark sable shades present before each eye,
And the deep vast abyss, eternity!
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And o'er the vast profound he shoots on wings:
The soul to distant regions steers her flight,
And sails incumbent on inferior night:
With vast celerity she shoots away,
And meets the regions of eternal day,
To shine for ever in the heav'nly birth,
And leave the body here to rot on earth.
The melancholy patriots round it wait,
And mourn the royal hero's timeless sate.
Disconsolate they move, a mournful band!
In mournful pomp they march along the strand:
The noble chief interr'd in youthful bloom,
Lies in the dreary regions of the tomb.
Adown Augusta's pallid visage flow
The living pearls, with unaffected woe:
Discons'late, hapless, see pale Britain mourn,
Abandon'd isle! forsaken and forlorn!
With desp'rate hands her bleeding breasts she beats;
While o'er her, frowning, grim destruction threats,
She mourns with heart-felt grief, she rends her hair,
And fills with piercing cries the echoing air.
Well may'st thou mourn thy patriot's timeless end,
Thy Muses' patron, and thy merchants' friend.
What heart shall pity thy full-flowing grief?
What hand now deign to give thy poor relief?
T' encourage arts, whose bounty now shall flow,
And learned science to promote, bestow?
Who now protect thee from the hostile frown,
And to the injur'd just return his own?
From us'ry and oppression who shall guard
The helpless, and the threat'ning ruin ward?
Alas! the truly noble Briton's gone,
And left us here in ceaseless woe to moan!
Impending desolation hangs around,
And ruin hovers o'er the trembling ground:
The blooming spring droops her enamell'd head,
Her glories wither, and her flow'rs all fade:
The sprouting leaves already drop away;
Languish the living herbs with pale decay:
The bowing trees, see! o'er the blasted heath,
Depending, bend beneath the weight of death:
Wrapp'd in th' expansive gloom, the lightnings play,
Hoarse thunder mutters thro' th' aërial way:
All nature feels the pangs, the storms renew,
And sprouts, with fatal haste, the baleful yew.
The living pearls, with unaffected woe:
Discons'late, hapless, see pale Britain mourn,
Abandon'd isle! forsaken and forlorn!
With desp'rate hands her bleeding breasts she beats;
While o'er her, frowning, grim destruction threats,
She mourns with heart-felt grief, she rends her hair,
And fills with piercing cries the echoing air.
Well may'st thou mourn thy patriot's timeless end,
Thy Muses' patron, and thy merchants' friend.
What heart shall pity thy full-flowing grief?
What hand now deign to give thy poor relief?
T' encourage arts, whose bounty now shall flow,
And learned science to promote, bestow?
Who now protect thee from the hostile frown,
And to the injur'd just return his own?
From us'ry and oppression who shall guard
The helpless, and the threat'ning ruin ward?
Alas! the truly noble Briton's gone,
And left us here in ceaseless woe to moan!
Impending desolation hangs around,
And ruin hovers o'er the trembling ground:
The blooming spring droops her enamell'd head,
Her glories wither, and her flow'rs all fade:
The sprouting leaves already drop away;
Languish the living herbs with pale decay:
88
Depending, bend beneath the weight of death:
Wrapp'd in th' expansive gloom, the lightnings play,
Hoarse thunder mutters thro' th' aërial way:
All nature feels the pangs, the storms renew,
And sprouts, with fatal haste, the baleful yew.
Some pow'r avert the threat'ning horrid weight,
And, godlike, prop Britannia's sinking state!
Minerva, hover o'er young George's soul:
May sacred wisdom all his deeds controul!
Exalted grandeur in each action shine,
His conduct all declare the youth divine.
And, godlike, prop Britannia's sinking state!
Minerva, hover o'er young George's soul:
May sacred wisdom all his deeds controul!
Exalted grandeur in each action shine,
His conduct all declare the youth divine.
Methinks I see him shine a glorious star,
Gentle in peace, but terrible in war!
Methinks each region does his praise resound,
And nations tremble at his name around!
His fame, through ev'ry distant kingdom rung,
Proclaims him of the race from whence he sprung:
So sable smoke, in volumes curls on high,
Heaps roll on heaps, and blacken all the sky:
Already so, his fame, methinks, is hurl'd
Around th' admiring, venerating world.
So the benighted wand'rer, on his way,
Laments the absence of all-cheering day;
Far distant from his friends and native home,
And not one glimpse does glimmer thro' the gloom:
In thought he breathes, each sigh his latest breath,
Present, each meditation, pits of death:
Irreg'lar, wild chimeras fill his soul,
And death, and dying, every step controul:
Till from the east there breaks a purple gleam,
His fears then vanish as a fleeting dream;
Hid in a cloud the sun first shoots his ray,
Then breaks effulgent on th' illumin'd day;
We see no spot then in the flaming rays,
Confus'd and lost within th' excessive blaze.
Gentle in peace, but terrible in war!
Methinks each region does his praise resound,
And nations tremble at his name around!
His fame, through ev'ry distant kingdom rung,
Proclaims him of the race from whence he sprung:
So sable smoke, in volumes curls on high,
Heaps roll on heaps, and blacken all the sky:
Already so, his fame, methinks, is hurl'd
Around th' admiring, venerating world.
So the benighted wand'rer, on his way,
Laments the absence of all-cheering day;
Far distant from his friends and native home,
And not one glimpse does glimmer thro' the gloom:
In thought he breathes, each sigh his latest breath,
Present, each meditation, pits of death:
Irreg'lar, wild chimeras fill his soul,
And death, and dying, every step controul:
Till from the east there breaks a purple gleam,
His fears then vanish as a fleeting dream;
Hid in a cloud the sun first shoots his ray,
Then breaks effulgent on th' illumin'd day;
We see no spot then in the flaming rays,
Confus'd and lost within th' excessive blaze.
89
ODE ON THE DUKE OF YORK's SECOND DEPARTURE FROM ENGLAND AS REAR ADMIRAL.
Written aboard the Royal George.
Again the royal streamers play!
To glory Edward hastes away:
Adieu, ye happy sylvan bowers,
Where pleasure's sprightly throng await!
Ye domes, where regal grandeur towers
In purple ornaments of state!
Ye scenes where virtue's sacred strain
Bids the tragic Muse complain!
Where satire treads the comic stage,
To scourge and mend a venal age;
Where music pours the soft, melodious lay,
And melting symphonies congenial play!
Ye silken sons of ease, who dwell
In flowery vales of peace, farewel!
To glory Edward hastes away:
Adieu, ye happy sylvan bowers,
Where pleasure's sprightly throng await!
Ye domes, where regal grandeur towers
In purple ornaments of state!
Ye scenes where virtue's sacred strain
Bids the tragic Muse complain!
Where satire treads the comic stage,
To scourge and mend a venal age;
Where music pours the soft, melodious lay,
And melting symphonies congenial play!
Ye silken sons of ease, who dwell
In flowery vales of peace, farewel!
In vain the goddess of the myrtle grove
Her charms ineffable displays;
In vain she calls to happier realms of love,
Which spring's unfading bloom arrays:
In vain her living roses blow,
And ever vernal pleasures grow;
The gentle sports of youth no more
Allure him to the peaceful shore:
Arcadian ease no longer charms,
For war and fame alone can please.
His throbbing bosom beats to arms,
To war the hero moves, through storms and wintry seas.
Her charms ineffable displays;
In vain she calls to happier realms of love,
Which spring's unfading bloom arrays:
In vain her living roses blow,
And ever vernal pleasures grow;
The gentle sports of youth no more
Allure him to the peaceful shore:
Arcadian ease no longer charms,
For war and fame alone can please.
His throbbing bosom beats to arms,
To war the hero moves, through storms and wintry seas.
CHORUS.
The gentle sports of youth no moreAllure him to the peaceful shore,
For war and fame alone can please;
To war the hero moves, through storms and wintry seas.
Though danger's hostile train appears
To thwart the course that honour steers;
Unmov'd he leads the rugged way,
Despising peril and dismay:
His country calls; to guard her laws,
Lo! every joy the gallant youth resigns;
Th' avenging naval sword he draws,
And o'er the waves conducts her martial lines:
Hark! his sprightly clarions play;
Follow where he leads the way!
The piercing fife, the sounding drum,
Tell the deeps their master's come.
To thwart the course that honour steers;
Unmov'd he leads the rugged way,
Despising peril and dismay:
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Lo! every joy the gallant youth resigns;
Th' avenging naval sword he draws,
And o'er the waves conducts her martial lines:
Hark! his sprightly clarions play;
Follow where he leads the way!
The piercing fife, the sounding drum,
Tell the deeps their master's come.
CHORUS.
Hark! his sprightly clarions play;Follow where he leads the way!
The piercing fife, the sounding drum,
Tell the deeps their master's come.
Thus Alcmena's warlike son
The thorny coast of virtue run,
When, taught by her unerring voice,
He made the glorious choice:
Severe, indeed, th' attempt he knew,
Youth's genial ardours to subdue:
For pleasure Venus' lovely form assum'd;
Her glowing charms, divinely bright,
In all the pride of beauty bloom'd,
And struck his ravish'd sight.
Transfix'd, amaz'd,
Alcides gaz'd:
Enchanting grace
Adorn'd her face,
And all his changing looks confest
Th' alternate passions in his breast:
Her swelling bosom half reveal'd;
Her eyes, that kindling raptures fir'd,
A thousand tender pains instill'd,
A thousand flatt'ring thoughts inspir'd:
Persuasion's sweetest language hung
In melting accent on her tongue:
Deep in his heart the winning tale
Infus'd a magic power;
She prest him to the rosy vale,
And show'd th' Elysian bower:
Her hand, that trembling ardours move,
Conducts him blushing to the blest alcove:
Ah! see, o'erpower'd by beauty's charms,
And won by love's resistless arms,
The captive yields to nature's soft alarms!
The thorny coast of virtue run,
When, taught by her unerring voice,
He made the glorious choice:
Severe, indeed, th' attempt he knew,
Youth's genial ardours to subdue:
For pleasure Venus' lovely form assum'd;
Her glowing charms, divinely bright,
In all the pride of beauty bloom'd,
And struck his ravish'd sight.
Transfix'd, amaz'd,
Alcides gaz'd:
Enchanting grace
Adorn'd her face,
And all his changing looks confest
Th' alternate passions in his breast:
Her swelling bosom half reveal'd;
Her eyes, that kindling raptures fir'd,
A thousand tender pains instill'd,
A thousand flatt'ring thoughts inspir'd:
Persuasion's sweetest language hung
In melting accent on her tongue:
Deep in his heart the winning tale
Infus'd a magic power;
She prest him to the rosy vale,
And show'd th' Elysian bower:
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Conducts him blushing to the blest alcove:
Ah! see, o'erpower'd by beauty's charms,
And won by love's resistless arms,
The captive yields to nature's soft alarms!
CHORUS.
Ah! see, o'erpower'd by beauty's charms,
And won by love's resistless arms,
The captive yields to nature's soft alarms!
Assist, ye guardian powers above!
From ruin save the son of Jove!
By heavenly mandate virtue came,
And check'd the fatal flame;
Swift as the quivering needle wheels,
Whose point the magnet's influence feels.
Inspir'd with awe,
He turning saw
The nymph divine
Transcendent shine;
And, while he view'd the godlike maid,
His heart a sacred impulse sway'd:
His eyes with ardent motion roll,
And love, regret, and hope, divide his soul.
But soon her words his pain destroy,
And all the numbers of his heart,
Return'd by her celestial art,
Now swell'd to strains of nobler joy.
Instructed thus by virtue's lore,
His happy steps the realms explore
Where guilt and error are no more:
The clouds that veil'd his intellectual ray,
Before her breath dispelling, melt away:
Broke loose from pleasure's glittering chain,
He scorn'd her soft inglorious reign:
Convinc'd, resolv'd, to virtue then he turn'd,
And in his breast paternal glory burn'd.
And won by love's resistless arms,
The captive yields to nature's soft alarms!
Assist, ye guardian powers above!
From ruin save the son of Jove!
By heavenly mandate virtue came,
And check'd the fatal flame;
Swift as the quivering needle wheels,
Whose point the magnet's influence feels.
Inspir'd with awe,
He turning saw
The nymph divine
Transcendent shine;
And, while he view'd the godlike maid,
His heart a sacred impulse sway'd:
His eyes with ardent motion roll,
And love, regret, and hope, divide his soul.
But soon her words his pain destroy,
And all the numbers of his heart,
Return'd by her celestial art,
Now swell'd to strains of nobler joy.
Instructed thus by virtue's lore,
His happy steps the realms explore
Where guilt and error are no more:
The clouds that veil'd his intellectual ray,
Before her breath dispelling, melt away:
Broke loose from pleasure's glittering chain,
He scorn'd her soft inglorious reign:
Convinc'd, resolv'd, to virtue then he turn'd,
And in his breast paternal glory burn'd.
CHORUS.
Broke loose from pleasure's glittering chain,He scorn'd the soft inglorious reign:
Convinc'd, resolv'd, to virtue then he turn'd,
And in his breast paternal glory burn'd.
92
So when on Britain's other hope she shone,
Like him the royal youth she won:
Thus taught, he bids his fleet advance
To curb the power of Spain and France:
Aloft his martial ensigns flow,
And hark! his brazen trumpets blow!
The wat'ry profound,
Awak'd by the sound,
All trembles around:
While Edward o'er the azure fields
Fraternal wonder wields:
High on the deck around he stands,
And views around his floating bands
In awful order join:
They, while the warlike trumpet's strain,
Deep sounding, swells along the main,
Extend the embattl'd line.
Then Britain triumphantly saw
His armament ride
Supreme on the tide,
And o'er the vast ocean give law.
Like him the royal youth she won:
Thus taught, he bids his fleet advance
To curb the power of Spain and France:
Aloft his martial ensigns flow,
And hark! his brazen trumpets blow!
The wat'ry profound,
Awak'd by the sound,
All trembles around:
While Edward o'er the azure fields
Fraternal wonder wields:
High on the deck around he stands,
And views around his floating bands
In awful order join:
They, while the warlike trumpet's strain,
Deep sounding, swells along the main,
Extend the embattl'd line.
Then Britain triumphantly saw
His armament ride
Supreme on the tide,
And o'er the vast ocean give law.
CHORUS.
Then Britain triumphantly sawHis armament ride
Supreme on the tide,
And o'er the vast ocean give law.
Now with shouting peals of joy,
The ships their horrid tubes display,
Tier over tier in terrible array,
And wait the signal to destroy:
The sailors all burn to engage:
Hark! hark! their shouts arise,
And shake the vaulted skies!
Exulting with Bacchanal rage.
Then, Neptune, the hero revere,
Whose power's superior to thine!
And, when his proud squadrons appear,
The trident and chariot resign!
The ships their horrid tubes display,
Tier over tier in terrible array,
And wait the signal to destroy:
The sailors all burn to engage:
Hark! hark! their shouts arise,
And shake the vaulted skies!
Exulting with Bacchanal rage.
Then, Neptune, the hero revere,
Whose power's superior to thine!
And, when his proud squadrons appear,
The trident and chariot resign!
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CHORUS.
Then, Neptune, the hero, revere,Whose power's superior to thine!
And, when his proud squadrons appear,
The trident and chariot resign!
Albion, wake thy grateful voice!
Let thy hills and vales rejoice:
O'er remotest hostile regions
Thy victorious flags are known;
Thy resistless martial legions
Dreadful move from zone to zone;
Thy flaming bolts unerring roll,
And all the trembling globe controul:
Thy seamen, invincibly true,
No menace, no fraud can subdue:
To thy great trust
Severely just,
All dissonant strife they disclaim;
To meet the foe
Their bosoms glow,
Who only are rivals in fame.
Let thy hills and vales rejoice:
O'er remotest hostile regions
Thy victorious flags are known;
Thy resistless martial legions
Dreadful move from zone to zone;
Thy flaming bolts unerring roll,
And all the trembling globe controul:
Thy seamen, invincibly true,
No menace, no fraud can subdue:
To thy great trust
Severely just,
All dissonant strife they disclaim;
To meet the foe
Their bosoms glow,
Who only are rivals in fame.
CHORUS.
Thy seamen, invincibly true,No menace, no fraud, can subdue:
All dissonant strife they disclaim,
And only are rivals in fame.
For Edward tune your harps, ye nine!
Triumphant strike each living string;
For him, in ecstacy divine
Your choral Io Pæans sing!
For him your festive concerts breathe!
For him your flowery garlands wreathe!
Wake! O wake the joyful song!
Ye fauns of the woods,
Ye nymphs of the floods,
The musical current prolong!
Ye Sylvans, that dance on the plain,
To swell the grand chorus accord!
Ye Tritons, that sport on the main,
Exulting, acknowledge your lord!
Till all the wild numbers combin'd,
That floating proclaim
Our Admiral's name,
In symphony roll on the wind!
Triumphant strike each living string;
For him, in ecstacy divine
Your choral Io Pæans sing!
For him your festive concerts breathe!
For him your flowery garlands wreathe!
Wake! O wake the joyful song!
Ye fauns of the woods,
Ye nymphs of the floods,
The musical current prolong!
94
To swell the grand chorus accord!
Ye Tritons, that sport on the main,
Exulting, acknowledge your lord!
Till all the wild numbers combin'd,
That floating proclaim
Our Admiral's name,
In symphony roll on the wind!
CHORUS.
Wake! O wake the joyful song!Ye Sylvans, that dance on the plain,
Ye Tritons, that sport on the main,
The musical current prolong!
O! while confenting Britons praise,
Those votive measures deign to hear;
For thee the Muse awakes her lays,
For thee th' unequal viol plays,
The tribute of a soul sincere.
Nor thou, illustrious chief! refuse
The incense of a Nautic Muse!
For ah! to whom shall Neptune's sons complain,
But him whose arms unrivall'd rule the main?
Deep on my grateful breast
Thy favour is imprest;
No happy son of wealth or fame
To court a royal patron came!
A hapless youth, whose vital page
Was one sad lengthen'd tale of woe,
Where ruthless fate, impelling tides of rage,
Bad wave on wave in dire succession flow:
To glittering stars, and titled names unknown,
Preferr'd his suit to thee alone.
The tale your sacred pity mov'd;
You felt, consented, and approv'd.
Then touch my strings, ye blest Pierian quire!
Exalt to rapture every happy line!
My bosom kindle with Promethean fire!
And swell each note with energy divine;
No more to plaintive sounds of woe
Let the vocal numbers flow!
Perhaps the chief to whom I sing
May yet ordain auspicious days,
To wake the lyre with nobler lays,
And tune to war the nervous string.
Tho' all the powers of genius he possess,
For who, untaught in Neptune's school,
Tho' disciplin'd by classic rule,
With daring pencil can display
The fight that thunders on the watery way,
And all its horrid incidents express?
To him, my Muse, these warlike strains belong
Source of my hope, and patron of thy song.
Those votive measures deign to hear;
For thee the Muse awakes her lays,
For thee th' unequal viol plays,
The tribute of a soul sincere.
Nor thou, illustrious chief! refuse
The incense of a Nautic Muse!
For ah! to whom shall Neptune's sons complain,
But him whose arms unrivall'd rule the main?
Deep on my grateful breast
Thy favour is imprest;
No happy son of wealth or fame
To court a royal patron came!
A hapless youth, whose vital page
Was one sad lengthen'd tale of woe,
Where ruthless fate, impelling tides of rage,
Bad wave on wave in dire succession flow:
To glittering stars, and titled names unknown,
Preferr'd his suit to thee alone.
The tale your sacred pity mov'd;
You felt, consented, and approv'd.
Then touch my strings, ye blest Pierian quire!
Exalt to rapture every happy line!
My bosom kindle with Promethean fire!
And swell each note with energy divine;
95
Let the vocal numbers flow!
Perhaps the chief to whom I sing
May yet ordain auspicious days,
To wake the lyre with nobler lays,
And tune to war the nervous string.
Tho' all the powers of genius he possess,
For who, untaught in Neptune's school,
Tho' disciplin'd by classic rule,
With daring pencil can display
The fight that thunders on the watery way,
And all its horrid incidents express?
To him, my Muse, these warlike strains belong
Source of my hope, and patron of thy song.
CHORUS.
To him my Muse, these warlike strains belong!Source of my hope, and patron of thy song.
THE FOND LOVER.
A BALLAD.
A nymph of ev'ry charm possess'd,
That native virtue gives,
Within my bosom all-confess'd,
In bright idea lives.
For her my trembling numbers play
Along the pathless deep,
While sadly social with my lay
The winds in concert weep.
That native virtue gives,
Within my bosom all-confess'd,
In bright idea lives.
For her my trembling numbers play
Along the pathless deep,
While sadly social with my lay
The winds in concert weep.
If beauty's sacred influence charms
The rage of adverse fate,
Say why the pleasing soft alarms
Such cruel pangs create?
Since all her thoughts, by sense refin'd,
Unartful truth express,
Say wherefore sense and truth are join'd
To give my soul distress?
The rage of adverse fate,
Say why the pleasing soft alarms
Such cruel pangs create?
Since all her thoughts, by sense refin'd,
Unartful truth express,
Say wherefore sense and truth are join'd
To give my soul distress?
96
If, when her blooming lips I press,
Which vernal fragrance fills,
Thro' all my veins th' sweet excess
In trembling motion thrills;
Say whence this secret anguish grows,
Congenial with my joy?
And why the touch where pleasure grows
Shou'd vital peace destroy?
Which vernal fragrance fills,
Thro' all my veins th' sweet excess
In trembling motion thrills;
Say whence this secret anguish grows,
Congenial with my joy?
And why the touch where pleasure grows
Shou'd vital peace destroy?
If when my fair, in melting song,
Awakes the vocal lay,
Not all your notes, ye Phocian throng,
Such pleasing sounds convey.
Thus wrapt all o'er with fondest love,
Why heaves this broken sigh?
For then my blood forgets to move;
I gaze, adore, and die.
Awakes the vocal lay,
Not all your notes, ye Phocian throng,
Such pleasing sounds convey.
Thus wrapt all o'er with fondest love,
Why heaves this broken sigh?
For then my blood forgets to move;
I gaze, adore, and die.
Accept, my charming maid, the strain
Which you alone inspire;
To thee th' dying strings complain
That quiver on my lyre,
O! give this bleeding bosom ease,
That knows no joy but thee;
Teach me thy happy art to please,
Or deign to love like me.
Which you alone inspire;
To thee th' dying strings complain
That quiver on my lyre,
O! give this bleeding bosom ease,
That knows no joy but thee;
Teach me thy happy art to please,
Or deign to love like me.
THE DEMAGOGUE.
Bold is the attempt in these licentious times,
When with such towering strides sedition climbs,
With sense or satire to confront her power,
And charge her in the great decisive hour:
Bold is the man, who, on her conquering day,
Stands in the pass of fate to bar her way:
Whose heart, by frowning arrogance unaw'd,
Or the deep-lurking snares of specious fraud,
The threats of giant faction can deride,
And stem with stubborn arm her roaring tide,
For him unnumber'd brooding ills await;
Scorn, malice, insolence, reproach, and hate;
At him-who dares this legion to defy,
A thousand mortal shafts in secret fly:
Revenge, exulting with malignant joy,
Pursues th' incautious victim to destroy:
And slander strives, with unrelenting aim,
To spit her blasting venom on his name:
Around him faction's harpies flap their wings,
And rhyming vermin dart their feeble stings:
In vain the wretch retreats, while, in full cry,
Fierce on his throat th' hungry bloodhounds fly.
Enclos'd with perils thus the conscious Muse,
Alarm'd, tho' undismay'd, her danger views.
Nor shall unmanly terror now control
The strong resentment struggling in her soul,
While indignation, with resistless strain,
Pours her full deluge thro' each swelling vein.
By the vile fear that chills the coward's breast,
By sordid caution is her voice supprest.
While arrogance, with big theatric rage,
Audacious struts on pow'rs imperial stage;
While o'er each country, at her dread command,
Black discord, screaming, shakes her fatal brand:
While, in defiance of maternal laws,
The sacrilegious sword rebellion draws;
Shall she at this important hour retire,
And quench in Lethe's wave her genuine fire?
Honour forbid! she fears no threat'ning foe,
When conscious justice bids her bosom glow:
And, while she kindles the reluctant flame,
Let not the prudent voice of friendship blame!
She feels the sting of keen resentment goad,
Tho' guiltless yet of satire's thorny road.
Let other Quixottes, frantic with renown,
Plant on their brow a tawdry paper crown!
While fools adore, and vassal bards obey,
Let the great Monarch Ass thro' Gotham bray!
Our Poet brandishes no mimic sword,
To rule a realm of dunces self-explor'd:
No bleeding victims curse his iron sway;
Nor murder'd reputation marks his way.
True to herself, unarm'd, the fearless Muse
Thro' reason's path her steady course pursues:
True to herself, advances, undeterr'd
By the rude clamors of the savage herd.
As some bold Surgeon, with inserted steel,
Probes deep the putrid sore, intent to heal;
So the rank ulcers that our Patriot load,
Shall she with caustic's healing fire corrode.
When with such towering strides sedition climbs,
With sense or satire to confront her power,
And charge her in the great decisive hour:
Bold is the man, who, on her conquering day,
Stands in the pass of fate to bar her way:
Whose heart, by frowning arrogance unaw'd,
Or the deep-lurking snares of specious fraud,
The threats of giant faction can deride,
And stem with stubborn arm her roaring tide,
For him unnumber'd brooding ills await;
Scorn, malice, insolence, reproach, and hate;
97
A thousand mortal shafts in secret fly:
Revenge, exulting with malignant joy,
Pursues th' incautious victim to destroy:
And slander strives, with unrelenting aim,
To spit her blasting venom on his name:
Around him faction's harpies flap their wings,
And rhyming vermin dart their feeble stings:
In vain the wretch retreats, while, in full cry,
Fierce on his throat th' hungry bloodhounds fly.
Enclos'd with perils thus the conscious Muse,
Alarm'd, tho' undismay'd, her danger views.
Nor shall unmanly terror now control
The strong resentment struggling in her soul,
While indignation, with resistless strain,
Pours her full deluge thro' each swelling vein.
By the vile fear that chills the coward's breast,
By sordid caution is her voice supprest.
While arrogance, with big theatric rage,
Audacious struts on pow'rs imperial stage;
While o'er each country, at her dread command,
Black discord, screaming, shakes her fatal brand:
While, in defiance of maternal laws,
The sacrilegious sword rebellion draws;
Shall she at this important hour retire,
And quench in Lethe's wave her genuine fire?
Honour forbid! she fears no threat'ning foe,
When conscious justice bids her bosom glow:
And, while she kindles the reluctant flame,
Let not the prudent voice of friendship blame!
She feels the sting of keen resentment goad,
Tho' guiltless yet of satire's thorny road.
Let other Quixottes, frantic with renown,
Plant on their brow a tawdry paper crown!
While fools adore, and vassal bards obey,
Let the great Monarch Ass thro' Gotham bray!
Our Poet brandishes no mimic sword,
To rule a realm of dunces self-explor'd:
No bleeding victims curse his iron sway;
Nor murder'd reputation marks his way.
98
Thro' reason's path her steady course pursues:
True to herself, advances, undeterr'd
By the rude clamors of the savage herd.
As some bold Surgeon, with inserted steel,
Probes deep the putrid sore, intent to heal;
So the rank ulcers that our Patriot load,
Shall she with caustic's healing fire corrode.
Yet ere from patient slumber satire wakes,
And brandishes the avenging scourge of snakes;
Yet ere her eyes, with lightning's vivid ray,
The dark recesses of his heart display;
Let candour own th' undaunted pilot's pow'r,
Felt in severest danger's trying hour!
Let truth, consenting, with the trump of fame,
His glory, in auspicious strains, proclaim!
He bade the tempest of the battle roar,
That thunder'd o'er the deep, from shore to shore.
How oft', amid the horrors of the war,
Chain'd to the bloody whee's of danger's car,
How oft' my bosom at thy name has glow'd!
And from my beating heart applause bestow'd;
Applause, that, genuine as the blush of youth,
Unknown to guile, was sanctify'd by truth!
How oft' I blest the patriot's honest rage,
That greatly dar'd to lash the guilty age;
That, rapt with zeal, pathetic, bold, and strong,
Roll'd th' full tide of eloquence along!
That pow'r's big torrent brav'd with manly pride,
And all corruption's venal arts defy'd!
When from afar those penetrating eyes
Beheld each secret hostile scheme arise;
Watch'd every motion of the faithless foe,
Each plot o'erturn'd, and baffl'd every blow:
A fond enthusiast, kindling at thy name,
I glow'd in secret with congenial flame;
While my young bosom, to deceit unknown,
Believ'd all real virtue thine alone.
And brandishes the avenging scourge of snakes;
Yet ere her eyes, with lightning's vivid ray,
The dark recesses of his heart display;
Let candour own th' undaunted pilot's pow'r,
Felt in severest danger's trying hour!
Let truth, consenting, with the trump of fame,
His glory, in auspicious strains, proclaim!
He bade the tempest of the battle roar,
That thunder'd o'er the deep, from shore to shore.
How oft', amid the horrors of the war,
Chain'd to the bloody whee's of danger's car,
How oft' my bosom at thy name has glow'd!
And from my beating heart applause bestow'd;
Applause, that, genuine as the blush of youth,
Unknown to guile, was sanctify'd by truth!
How oft' I blest the patriot's honest rage,
That greatly dar'd to lash the guilty age;
That, rapt with zeal, pathetic, bold, and strong,
Roll'd th' full tide of eloquence along!
That pow'r's big torrent brav'd with manly pride,
And all corruption's venal arts defy'd!
When from afar those penetrating eyes
Beheld each secret hostile scheme arise;
Watch'd every motion of the faithless foe,
Each plot o'erturn'd, and baffl'd every blow:
A fond enthusiast, kindling at thy name,
I glow'd in secret with congenial flame;
While my young bosom, to deceit unknown,
Believ'd all real virtue thine alone.
Such then he seem'd, and such indeed might be,
If truth with error ever could agree!
Sure satire never with a fairer hand,
Pourtray'd the object she design'd to brand.
Alas! that virtue shou'd so soon decay,
And faction's wild applause thy heart betray!
The Muse with secret sympathy relents,
And human failings as a friend laments:
But when those dang'rous errors, big with fate,
Spread discord and distraction thro' the state,
Reason should then exert her utmost power
To guard our passions in that fatal hour.
If truth with error ever could agree!
99
Pourtray'd the object she design'd to brand.
Alas! that virtue shou'd so soon decay,
And faction's wild applause thy heart betray!
The Muse with secret sympathy relents,
And human failings as a friend laments:
But when those dang'rous errors, big with fate,
Spread discord and distraction thro' the state,
Reason should then exert her utmost power
To guard our passions in that fatal hour.
There was a time, 'ere yet his conscious heart
Durst from th' hardy path of truth depart.
While yet with generous sentiment it glow'd,
A stranger to corruption's slippery road;
There was a time our Patriot durst avow
Those honest maxims he despises now.
How did he then his country's wounds bewail,
And at th' insatiate German vulture rail!
Whose cruel talons Albion's entrails tore,
Whose hungry maw was glutted with her gore!
The mists of error that in darkness held
Our reason, like the sun, his voice dispel'd.
And lo! exhausted, with no pow'r to save,
We view Britannia panting on th' wave;
Hung round her neck, a millstone's ponderous weight
Drags down the struggling victim to her fate!
While horror at the thought our bosom feels,
We bless the man this horror who reveals.
Durst from th' hardy path of truth depart.
While yet with generous sentiment it glow'd,
A stranger to corruption's slippery road;
There was a time our Patriot durst avow
Those honest maxims he despises now.
How did he then his country's wounds bewail,
And at th' insatiate German vulture rail!
Whose cruel talons Albion's entrails tore,
Whose hungry maw was glutted with her gore!
The mists of error that in darkness held
Our reason, like the sun, his voice dispel'd.
And lo! exhausted, with no pow'r to save,
We view Britannia panting on th' wave;
Hung round her neck, a millstone's ponderous weight
Drags down the struggling victim to her fate!
While horror at the thought our bosom feels,
We bless the man this horror who reveals.
But what alarming thoughts the heart amaze,
When on this Janus's other face we gaze;
For, lo! possest of pow'r's imperial reins,
Our chief those visionary ills disdains!
Alas! how soon the steady Patriot turns!
In vain this change astonish'd England mourns!
Her vital blood, that pour'd from ev'ry vein,
So late, to fill th'accurs'd Westphalian drain,
Then ceas'd to flow; the vulture now no more
With unrelenting rage her bowels tore.
His magic rod transforms the bird of prey!
The millstone feels the touch and melts away!
And, strange to tell, still stranger to believe,
What eyes ne'er saw, and heart could ne'er conceive,
At once, transplanted by the sorcerer's wand,
Columbian hills in distant Austria stand!
America, with pangs before unknown,
Now with Westphalia utters groan for groan:
By sympathy she fevers with her fires,
Burns as she burns, and as she dies expires.
When on this Janus's other face we gaze;
For, lo! possest of pow'r's imperial reins,
Our chief those visionary ills disdains!
Alas! how soon the steady Patriot turns!
In vain this change astonish'd England mourns!
Her vital blood, that pour'd from ev'ry vein,
So late, to fill th'accurs'd Westphalian drain,
Then ceas'd to flow; the vulture now no more
With unrelenting rage her bowels tore.
His magic rod transforms the bird of prey!
The millstone feels the touch and melts away!
100
What eyes ne'er saw, and heart could ne'er conceive,
At once, transplanted by the sorcerer's wand,
Columbian hills in distant Austria stand!
America, with pangs before unknown,
Now with Westphalia utters groan for groan:
By sympathy she fevers with her fires,
Burns as she burns, and as she dies expires.
From maxims long adopted thus he flew,
For ever changing, yet for ever true:
Swoln with success, and with applause inflam'd,
He scorn'd all caution, all advice disclaim'd;
Arm'd with war's thunder, he embrac'd no more
Those patriot principles maintain'd before.
Perverse, inconstant, obstinate, and proud,
Drunk with ambition, turbulent, and loud,
He wrecks us headlong on that dreadful strand
He once devoted all his powers to brand!
For ever changing, yet for ever true:
Swoln with success, and with applause inflam'd,
He scorn'd all caution, all advice disclaim'd;
Arm'd with war's thunder, he embrac'd no more
Those patriot principles maintain'd before.
Perverse, inconstant, obstinate, and proud,
Drunk with ambition, turbulent, and loud,
He wrecks us headlong on that dreadful strand
He once devoted all his powers to brand!
Our hapless country views with weeping eyes
On every side o'erwhelming horrors rise;
Drain'd of her wealth, exhausted of her power,
And agoniz'd as in the mortal hour;
Her armies wasted with incessant toils,
Or doom'd to perish in contagious soils,
To guard some needy royal plunderer's throne,
And sent to fall in battles not their own.
Th' enormous debt at home, tho' long o'ercharg'd,
With grievous burdens annually enlarg'd:
Crush'd with increasing taxes to the ground,
That suck like vampires every bleeding wound:
Ground with severe distress th' industrious poor,
Driven by the ruthless landlord to the door.
On every side o'erwhelming horrors rise;
Drain'd of her wealth, exhausted of her power,
And agoniz'd as in the mortal hour;
Her armies wasted with incessant toils,
Or doom'd to perish in contagious soils,
To guard some needy royal plunderer's throne,
And sent to fall in battles not their own.
Th' enormous debt at home, tho' long o'ercharg'd,
With grievous burdens annually enlarg'd:
Crush'd with increasing taxes to the ground,
That suck like vampires every bleeding wound:
Ground with severe distress th' industrious poor,
Driven by the ruthless landlord to the door.
While thus our land her hapless fate bemoans
In secret, and with inward sorrow groans;
Tho' deck'd with tinsel trophies of renown,
All gash'd with sores, with anguish bending down,
Can yet some impious parricide appear,
Who strives to make this anguish more severe?
Can one exist, so much his country's foe,
To bid her wounds with fresh effusion flow?
In secret, and with inward sorrow groans;
Tho' deck'd with tinsel trophies of renown,
All gash'd with sores, with anguish bending down,
Can yet some impious parricide appear,
Who strives to make this anguish more severe?
Can one exist, so much his country's foe,
To bid her wounds with fresh effusion flow?
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There can; to him in vain she lifts her eyes,
His soul, relentless, hears her piercing sighs!
Shameless of front, impatient of controul,
He spurs her onward to destruction's goal!
Nor yet content on curst Westphalia's shore
With mad profusion to exhaust her store,
Still peace his pompous fulminations brand,
As pirates tremble at the sight of land:
Still to new wars the public eye he turns;
Defies all peril, and at reason spurns;
Till prest with danger, by distress assail'd,
That baffled courage, and o'er skill prevail'd;
Till foundering in the storm himself had brew'd,
He strives at last its horrors to elude.
Some wretched shift must still protect his name,
And to the guiltless head transfer his shame:
Then hearing modest diffidence oppose
His rash advice, that golden time he chose;
And while big surges threaten'd to o'erwhelm
The ship, ingloriously forsook the helm.
His soul, relentless, hears her piercing sighs!
Shameless of front, impatient of controul,
He spurs her onward to destruction's goal!
Nor yet content on curst Westphalia's shore
With mad profusion to exhaust her store,
Still peace his pompous fulminations brand,
As pirates tremble at the sight of land:
Still to new wars the public eye he turns;
Defies all peril, and at reason spurns;
Till prest with danger, by distress assail'd,
That baffled courage, and o'er skill prevail'd;
Till foundering in the storm himself had brew'd,
He strives at last its horrors to elude.
Some wretched shift must still protect his name,
And to the guiltless head transfer his shame:
Then hearing modest diffidence oppose
His rash advice, that golden time he chose;
And while big surges threaten'd to o'erwhelm
The ship, ingloriously forsook the helm.
But all th' events collected to relate,
Let us his actions recapitulate.
Let us his actions recapitulate.
He first assum'd, by mean perfidious art,
Those patriot tenets foreign to his heart:
Next, by his country's fond applauses swell'd,
Thrust himself forward into power, and held
The reigns on principles which he alone,
Grown drunk and wanton with success could own;
Betray'd her interest, and abus'd his trust;
Then, deaf to pray'rs, forsook her in disgust;
With tragic mumm'ry, and most vile grimace,
Rode thro' the city with a woeful face,
As in distress, a patriot out of place!
Insults his generous prince, and in the day
Of trouble skulks, because he cannot sway!
In foreign climes embroils him with allies!
And bids at home the flames of Discord rise!
Those patriot tenets foreign to his heart:
Next, by his country's fond applauses swell'd,
Thrust himself forward into power, and held
The reigns on principles which he alone,
Grown drunk and wanton with success could own;
Betray'd her interest, and abus'd his trust;
Then, deaf to pray'rs, forsook her in disgust;
With tragic mumm'ry, and most vile grimace,
Rode thro' the city with a woeful face,
As in distress, a patriot out of place!
Insults his generous prince, and in the day
Of trouble skulks, because he cannot sway!
In foreign climes embroils him with allies!
And bids at home the flames of Discord rise!
She comes! from hell the exulting fury springs!
With grim destruction failing on her wings!
Around her scream an hundred harpies fell!
An hundred demons shriek with hideous yell!
From where, in mortal venom dipt on high,
Full drawn the deadliest shafts of satire fly,
Where Churchill brandishes his clumsy club.
And Wilkes unloads his excremental tub,
Down to where Entick, awkward and unclean,
Crawls on his native dust, a worm obscene!
While with unnumber'd wings, from van to rear,
Myriads of nameless buzzing drones appear:
From their dark cells the angry insects swarm,
And every little sting attempts to arm.
Here Chaplains, Privileges, moulder round,
And feeble Scourges rot upon the ground:
Here hungry Kenrick strives, with fruitless aim,
With Grub-street slander to extend his name:
As Bruin flies the slavering, snarling cur,
But only fills his famish'd jaws with fur.
Here Baldwin spreads th' assassinating cloak,
Where lurking rancour gives the secret stroke;
While, gorg'd with filth, around this senseless block,
A swarm of spider-bards obsequious flock:
While his demure Welch Goat, with lifted hoof,
In Poet's Corner hangs each flimsy woof;
And frisky grown, attempts, with awkward prance,
On wit's gay theatre to bleat and dance.
Here, seiz'd with iliac passion, mouthing Leech,
Too low, alas! for satire's whip to reach,
From his black entrails, faction's common sewer,
Disgorges all her excremental store.
With grim destruction failing on her wings!
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An hundred demons shriek with hideous yell!
From where, in mortal venom dipt on high,
Full drawn the deadliest shafts of satire fly,
Where Churchill brandishes his clumsy club.
And Wilkes unloads his excremental tub,
Down to where Entick, awkward and unclean,
Crawls on his native dust, a worm obscene!
While with unnumber'd wings, from van to rear,
Myriads of nameless buzzing drones appear:
From their dark cells the angry insects swarm,
And every little sting attempts to arm.
Here Chaplains, Privileges, moulder round,
And feeble Scourges rot upon the ground:
Here hungry Kenrick strives, with fruitless aim,
With Grub-street slander to extend his name:
As Bruin flies the slavering, snarling cur,
But only fills his famish'd jaws with fur.
Here Baldwin spreads th' assassinating cloak,
Where lurking rancour gives the secret stroke;
While, gorg'd with filth, around this senseless block,
A swarm of spider-bards obsequious flock:
While his demure Welch Goat, with lifted hoof,
In Poet's Corner hangs each flimsy woof;
And frisky grown, attempts, with awkward prance,
On wit's gay theatre to bleat and dance.
Here, seiz'd with iliac passion, mouthing Leech,
Too low, alas! for satire's whip to reach,
From his black entrails, faction's common sewer,
Disgorges all her excremental store.
With equal pity and regret the Muse
The thundering storms that rage around her views;
Impartial views the tides of discord blend,
Where lordly rogues for power and place contend;
Were not her patriot-heart with anguish torn,
Would eye the opposing chiefs with equal scorn.
Let freedom's deadliest foes for freedom bawl,
Alike to her who governs or who fall!
Aloof she stands, all unconcern'd and mute,
While the rude rabble bellow, “Down with Bute!”
While villainy the scourge of justice bilks,
Howl on, ye ruffians, “Liberty and Wilkes.”
Let some soft mummy of a peer, who stains
His rank, some sodden lump of ass's brains,
To that abandon'd wretch his sanction give;
Support his slander, and his wants relieve!
Let the great hydra roar aloud for Pitt,
And power and wisdom all to him submit!
Let proud ambition's sons, with hearts severe,
Like parricides, their mother's bowels tear!
Sedition her triumphant flag display,
And in embodied ranks her troops array!
While coward justice, trembling on her seat,
Like a vile slave descends to lick her feet!
Nor here let censure draw her awful blade,
If from her theme the wayward Muse has stray'd!
Sometimes th' impetuous torrents, o'er its mounds
Redundant bursting, swamps the adjacent grounds;
But rapid, and impatient of delay,
Thro' the deep channel still pursues its way.
The thundering storms that rage around her views;
Impartial views the tides of discord blend,
Where lordly rogues for power and place contend;
Were not her patriot-heart with anguish torn,
Would eye the opposing chiefs with equal scorn.
Let freedom's deadliest foes for freedom bawl,
Alike to her who governs or who fall!
103
While the rude rabble bellow, “Down with Bute!”
While villainy the scourge of justice bilks,
Howl on, ye ruffians, “Liberty and Wilkes.”
Let some soft mummy of a peer, who stains
His rank, some sodden lump of ass's brains,
To that abandon'd wretch his sanction give;
Support his slander, and his wants relieve!
Let the great hydra roar aloud for Pitt,
And power and wisdom all to him submit!
Let proud ambition's sons, with hearts severe,
Like parricides, their mother's bowels tear!
Sedition her triumphant flag display,
And in embodied ranks her troops array!
While coward justice, trembling on her seat,
Like a vile slave descends to lick her feet!
Nor here let censure draw her awful blade,
If from her theme the wayward Muse has stray'd!
Sometimes th' impetuous torrents, o'er its mounds
Redundant bursting, swamps the adjacent grounds;
But rapid, and impatient of delay,
Thro' the deep channel still pursues its way.
Our pilot now retir'd, no pleasures knows,
But every man and measure to oppose;
Like Æsop's cur, still snarling and perverse,
Bloated with envy, to mankind a curse,
No more at council his advice will lend,
But with all others who advise contend:
He bids distraction o'er his country blaze,
Then, swelter'd with revenge, retreats to Hayes:
Swallows the pension; but, aware of blame,
Transfers the proffer'd peerage to his dame.
The felon thus of old, his name to save,
His pilfer'd mutton to a brother gave.
But every man and measure to oppose;
Like Æsop's cur, still snarling and perverse,
Bloated with envy, to mankind a curse,
No more at council his advice will lend,
But with all others who advise contend:
He bids distraction o'er his country blaze,
Then, swelter'd with revenge, retreats to Hayes:
Swallows the pension; but, aware of blame,
Transfers the proffer'd peerage to his dame.
The felon thus of old, his name to save,
His pilfer'd mutton to a brother gave.
But should some frantic wretch, whom all men know
To nature and humanity a foe,
Deaf to the widow's moan and orphan's cry,
And dead to shame and friendships social tie;
Should such a miscreant, at the hour of death,
To thee his fortunes and domains bequeath;
With cruel rancour wresting from his heirs
What nature taught them to expect as theirs;
Wouldst thou with this detested robber join,
Their legal wealth to plunder and purloin?
Forbid it, Heav'n! thou canst not be so base,
To blast thy name with infamous disgrace!
The Muse who wakes, yet triumphs o'er thy hate,
Dare not so black a thought anticipate:
By Heaven, the Muse her ignorance betrays;
For while a thousand eyes with wonder gaze,
Tho' gorg'd and glutted with his country's store,
The vulture pounces on the shining ore;
In his strong talons gripes the golden prey,
And from the weeping orphan bears away.
To nature and humanity a foe,
Deaf to the widow's moan and orphan's cry,
And dead to shame and friendships social tie;
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To thee his fortunes and domains bequeath;
With cruel rancour wresting from his heirs
What nature taught them to expect as theirs;
Wouldst thou with this detested robber join,
Their legal wealth to plunder and purloin?
Forbid it, Heav'n! thou canst not be so base,
To blast thy name with infamous disgrace!
The Muse who wakes, yet triumphs o'er thy hate,
Dare not so black a thought anticipate:
By Heaven, the Muse her ignorance betrays;
For while a thousand eyes with wonder gaze,
Tho' gorg'd and glutted with his country's store,
The vulture pounces on the shining ore;
In his strong talons gripes the golden prey,
And from the weeping orphan bears away.
The great, th' alarming deed is yet to come,
That, big with fate, strikes expectation dumb.
O! patient, injur'd England, yet unveil
Thy eyes, and listen to the Muse's tale,
That, true as honour, unadorn'd with art,
Thy wrongs in fair succession shall impart!
That, big with fate, strikes expectation dumb.
O! patient, injur'd England, yet unveil
Thy eyes, and listen to the Muse's tale,
That, true as honour, unadorn'd with art,
Thy wrongs in fair succession shall impart!
Ere yet the desolating god of war
Had crush'd pale Europe with his iron car,
Had shook her shores with terrible alarms,
And thunder'd o'er the trembling deep, To arms!
In climes remote, beyond the setting sun,
Beyond th' Atlantic wave, the rage begun.
Alas! poor country, how with pangs unknown
To Britain, did thy filial bosom groan!
What savage armies did thy realms invade,
Unarm'd, and distant from maternal aid!
Thy cottages with cruel flames consum'd,
And the sad owner to destruction doom'd;
Mangled with wounds, with pungent anguish torn,
Or left to perish naked and forlorn!
What carnage reek'd upon thy ruin'd plain!
What infants bled! what virgins shriek'd in vain!
In every look distraction seem'd to glare,
Each heart was rack'd with horror and despair.
To Albion then, with groans and piercing cries,
America lift up her dying eyes;
To generous Albion pour'd forth all her pain,
To whom the wretched never wept in vain.
She heard, and instant to relieve her flew,
Her arm the gleaming sword of vengeance drew;
Far o'er the ocean wave her voice was known,
That shook the deep abyss from zone to zone:
She bade the thunder of the battle glow,
And pour'd the storm of lightning on the foe:
Nor ceas'd, till, crown'd with victory complete,
Pale Spain and France lay trembling at her feet.’
Had crush'd pale Europe with his iron car,
Had shook her shores with terrible alarms,
And thunder'd o'er the trembling deep, To arms!
In climes remote, beyond the setting sun,
Beyond th' Atlantic wave, the rage begun.
Alas! poor country, how with pangs unknown
To Britain, did thy filial bosom groan!
What savage armies did thy realms invade,
Unarm'd, and distant from maternal aid!
Thy cottages with cruel flames consum'd,
And the sad owner to destruction doom'd;
Mangled with wounds, with pungent anguish torn,
Or left to perish naked and forlorn!
What carnage reek'd upon thy ruin'd plain!
What infants bled! what virgins shriek'd in vain!
In every look distraction seem'd to glare,
Each heart was rack'd with horror and despair.
105
America lift up her dying eyes;
To generous Albion pour'd forth all her pain,
To whom the wretched never wept in vain.
She heard, and instant to relieve her flew,
Her arm the gleaming sword of vengeance drew;
Far o'er the ocean wave her voice was known,
That shook the deep abyss from zone to zone:
She bade the thunder of the battle glow,
And pour'd the storm of lightning on the foe:
Nor ceas'd, till, crown'd with victory complete,
Pale Spain and France lay trembling at her feet.’
Her fears dispell'd, and all her foes remov'd,
Her fertile grounds industriously improv'd,
Her towns with trade, with fleets her harbours crown'd,
And plenty smiling on her plains around;
Thus blest with all that commerce could supply,
America regards with jealous eye,
And canker'd heart, the parent, who so late
Had snatch'd her gasping from the jaws of fate;
Who now, with wars for her begun, relax'd,
With grievous aggravated burdens tax'd,
Her treasures wasted by a hungry brood
Of cormorants, that suck her vital blood;
Who now of her demands that tribute due,
For whom alone th' avenging sword she drew.
Her fertile grounds industriously improv'd,
Her towns with trade, with fleets her harbours crown'd,
And plenty smiling on her plains around;
Thus blest with all that commerce could supply,
America regards with jealous eye,
And canker'd heart, the parent, who so late
Had snatch'd her gasping from the jaws of fate;
Who now, with wars for her begun, relax'd,
With grievous aggravated burdens tax'd,
Her treasures wasted by a hungry brood
Of cormorants, that suck her vital blood;
Who now of her demands that tribute due,
For whom alone th' avenging sword she drew.
Scarce had America the just request
Receiv'd, when, kindling in her faithless breast,
Resentment glows, enrag'd sedition burns,
And, lo! the mandate of our laws she spurns!
Her secret hate, incapable of shame
Or gratitude, incenses to a flame,
Derides our power, bids insurrection rise,
Insults our honour, and our laws defies;
O'er all her coasts is heard th' audacious roar,
“England shall rule America no more.”
Receiv'd, when, kindling in her faithless breast,
Resentment glows, enrag'd sedition burns,
And, lo! the mandate of our laws she spurns!
Her secret hate, incapable of shame
Or gratitude, incenses to a flame,
Derides our power, bids insurrection rise,
Insults our honour, and our laws defies;
O'er all her coasts is heard th' audacious roar,
“England shall rule America no more.”
Soon as on Britain's shore th' alarm was heard,
Stern indignation in her look appear'd;
Yet, loth to punish, she her scourge withheld
From her perfidious sons, who thus rebell'd:
Now stung with anguish, now with rage assail'd,
Till pity in her soul at last prevail'd,
Determin'd not to draw her penal steel
Till fair persuasion made her last appeal.
Stern indignation in her look appear'd;
106
From her perfidious sons, who thus rebell'd:
Now stung with anguish, now with rage assail'd,
Till pity in her soul at last prevail'd,
Determin'd not to draw her penal steel
Till fair persuasion made her last appeal.
And now the great decisive hour drew nigh,
She on her darling patriot cast her eye:
His voice like thunder will support her cause,
Enforce her dictates, and sustain her laws;
Rich with her spoils, his sanction will dismay,
And bid th' insurgents tremble and obey.
She on her darling patriot cast her eye:
His voice like thunder will support her cause,
Enforce her dictates, and sustain her laws;
Rich with her spoils, his sanction will dismay,
And bid th' insurgents tremble and obey.
He comes!—but where, the amazing theme to hit,
Discover language or ideas fit?
Splay-footed words, that hector, bounce, or swagger,
The sense to puzzle, and the brain to stagger!
Our patriot-comes!—with frenzy fir'd, the Muse
With allegoric eye his figure views:
Like the grim portress of hell-gate he stands,
Bellona's scourge hangs trembling in his hands!
Around him, fiercer than the ravenous shark,
‘A cry of hell-hounds never-ceasing bark!’
And lo! th' enormous giant to bedeck,
A golden mill-stone hangs upon his neck!
On him ambition's vulture darts her claws,
And with voracious rage his liver gnaws.
Our Patriot comes!—the buckles of whose shoes
Not Cromwell's self was worthy to unloose.
Repeat his name in thunder to the skies!
Ye hills fall prostrate, and ye vales arise!
Thro' faction's wilderness prepare the way!
Prepare, ye listening senates, to obey!
The idol of the mob, behold him stand,
The alpha and omega of the land!
Discover language or ideas fit?
Splay-footed words, that hector, bounce, or swagger,
The sense to puzzle, and the brain to stagger!
Our patriot-comes!—with frenzy fir'd, the Muse
With allegoric eye his figure views:
Like the grim portress of hell-gate he stands,
Bellona's scourge hangs trembling in his hands!
Around him, fiercer than the ravenous shark,
‘A cry of hell-hounds never-ceasing bark!’
And lo! th' enormous giant to bedeck,
A golden mill-stone hangs upon his neck!
On him ambition's vulture darts her claws,
And with voracious rage his liver gnaws.
Our Patriot comes!—the buckles of whose shoes
Not Cromwell's self was worthy to unloose.
Repeat his name in thunder to the skies!
Ye hills fall prostrate, and ye vales arise!
Thro' faction's wilderness prepare the way!
Prepare, ye listening senates, to obey!
The idol of the mob, behold him stand,
The alpha and omega of the land!
Methinks I hear the bellowing Demagogue
Dumb-sounding declamations disembogue,
Expressions of immeasurable length,
Where pompous jargon fills the place of strength;
Where fulminating, rumbling, eloquence,
With loud theatric rage, bombards the sense;
And words deep rank'd in horrible array,
Exasperated metaphors convey!
With these auxiliaries, drawn up at large,
He bids enrag'd sedition beat the charge;
From England's sanguine hope his aid withdraws,
And lists to guide in insurrection's cause.
And lo! where, in her sacrilegious hand,
The parricide lifts high her burning brand!
Go, while she yet suspends her impious aim,
With those infernal lungs arouse the flame!
Tho' England merits not her least regard,
Thy friendly voice gold boxes shall reward!
Arise, embark! prepare thy martial car,
To lead her armies, and provoke the war!
Rebellion waits, impatient of delay,
The signal her black ensigns to display.
Dumb-sounding declamations disembogue,
Expressions of immeasurable length,
Where pompous jargon fills the place of strength;
Where fulminating, rumbling, eloquence,
With loud theatric rage, bombards the sense;
107
Exasperated metaphors convey!
With these auxiliaries, drawn up at large,
He bids enrag'd sedition beat the charge;
From England's sanguine hope his aid withdraws,
And lists to guide in insurrection's cause.
And lo! where, in her sacrilegious hand,
The parricide lifts high her burning brand!
Go, while she yet suspends her impious aim,
With those infernal lungs arouse the flame!
Tho' England merits not her least regard,
Thy friendly voice gold boxes shall reward!
Arise, embark! prepare thy martial car,
To lead her armies, and provoke the war!
Rebellion waits, impatient of delay,
The signal her black ensigns to display.
See anecdotes of Lucca Pitt, a man of a very similar complexion and constitution, in “Machiavel's History of Florence,” 1753.
See Marine Dictionary, article Cartel, and a letter from Mr. Secretary Pitt to the several Governors and Councils in North America, relating to the Flag of Truce Trade. Aug. 24, 1760.
To thee, whose soul, all stedfast and serene,
Beholds the tumults that distract our scene;
And, in the calmer seats of wisdom plac'd,
Enjoys the sweets of sentiment and taste;
To thee, O Marius! whom no factions sway,
Th' impartial Muse devotes her honest lay!
In her fond breast no prostituted aim,
Nor venal hope, assume fair friendship's name:
Sooner shall Churchill's feeble meteor-ray,
That led our foundering Demagogue astray,
Darkling to grope and flounce in error's night,
Eclipse great Mansfield's strong meridian light,
Than shall the change of fortune, time or place,
Thy generous friendship in my heart efface!
O! whether wandering from thy country far,
And plung'd amid the murdering scenes of war;
Or in the blest retreat of virtue laid,
Where contemplation spreads her awful shade;
If ever to forget thee I have power,
May Heaven desert me in my latest hour!
Beholds the tumults that distract our scene;
And, in the calmer seats of wisdom plac'd,
Enjoys the sweets of sentiment and taste;
To thee, O Marius! whom no factions sway,
Th' impartial Muse devotes her honest lay!
In her fond breast no prostituted aim,
Nor venal hope, assume fair friendship's name:
Sooner shall Churchill's feeble meteor-ray,
That led our foundering Demagogue astray,
Darkling to grope and flounce in error's night,
Eclipse great Mansfield's strong meridian light,
Than shall the change of fortune, time or place,
Thy generous friendship in my heart efface!
O! whether wandering from thy country far,
And plung'd amid the murdering scenes of war;
Or in the blest retreat of virtue laid,
Where contemplation spreads her awful shade;
If ever to forget thee I have power,
May Heaven desert me in my latest hour!
108
Still satire bids my bosom beat to arms,
And throb with irresistible alarms,
Like some full river, charg'd with falling showers,
Still o'er my breast her swelling deluge pours.
But rest and silence now, who wait beside,
With their strong flood-gates bar th' impetuous tide.
And throb with irresistible alarms,
Like some full river, charg'd with falling showers,
Still o'er my breast her swelling deluge pours.
But rest and silence now, who wait beside,
With their strong flood-gates bar th' impetuous tide.
| The Poetical works of Wm. Falconer | |