Odes on Various Subjects By Joseph Warton ... The second edition |
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| I. |
| II. | ODE II. To LIBERTY.
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| III. |
| IV. |
| V. |
| VI. |
| VII. |
| VIII. |
| IX. |
| X. |
| XI. |
| XII. |
| XIII. |
| XIV. |
 | Odes on Various Subjects |  |
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ODE II. To LIBERTY.
O goddess, on whose steps attend
Pleasure and laughter-loving Health,
White-mantled Peace with olive-wand,
Young Joy, and diamond-sceptred Wealth,
Blithe Plenty with her loaded horn,
With Science bright-ey'd as the morn,
In Britain, which for ages past
Has been thy choicest darling care,
Who mad'st her wise, and strong, and fair,
May thy best blessings ever last.
Pleasure and laughter-loving Health,
White-mantled Peace with olive-wand,
Young Joy, and diamond-sceptred Wealth,
Blithe Plenty with her loaded horn,
With Science bright-ey'd as the morn,
In Britain, which for ages past
Has been thy choicest darling care,
Who mad'st her wise, and strong, and fair,
May thy best blessings ever last.
For thee the pining pris'ner mourns,
Depriv'd of food, of mirth, of light;
For thee pale slaves to galleys chain'd,
That ply tough oars from morn to night;
Thee the proud Sultan's beauteous train,
By eunuchs guarded, weep in vain,
Tearing the roses from their locks;
And Guinea's captive kings lament,
By christian lords to labour sent,
Whipt like the dull, unfeeling ox.
Depriv'd of food, of mirth, of light;
For thee pale slaves to galleys chain'd,
That ply tough oars from morn to night;
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By eunuchs guarded, weep in vain,
Tearing the roses from their locks;
And Guinea's captive kings lament,
By christian lords to labour sent,
Whipt like the dull, unfeeling ox.
Inspir'd by thee, deaf to fond nature's cries,
Stern Brutus, when Rome's genius loudly spoke,
Gave her the matchless filial sacrifice,
Nor turn'd, nor trembled at the deathful stroke!
And he of later age, but equal fame,
Dar'd stab the tyrant, tho' he lov'd the friend.
How burnt the Spartan with warm patriot-flame,
In thy great cause his valorous life to end!
How burst Gustavus from the Swedish mine!
Like light from chaos dark, eternally to shine.
Stern Brutus, when Rome's genius loudly spoke,
Gave her the matchless filial sacrifice,
Nor turn'd, nor trembled at the deathful stroke!
And he of later age, but equal fame,
Dar'd stab the tyrant, tho' he lov'd the friend.
How burnt the Spartan with warm patriot-flame,
In thy great cause his valorous life to end!
How burst Gustavus from the Swedish mine!
Like light from chaos dark, eternally to shine.
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When heav'n to all thy joys bestows,
And graves upon our hearts—Be free—
Shall coward man those joys resign,
And dare reverse this great decree?
Submit him to some idol-king,
Some selfish, passion-guided thing,
Abhorring man, by man abhorr'd,
Around whose throne stands trembling Doubt,
Whose jealous eyes still rowl about,
And Murder with his reeking sword?
And graves upon our hearts—Be free—
Shall coward man those joys resign,
And dare reverse this great decree?
Submit him to some idol-king,
Some selfish, passion-guided thing,
Abhorring man, by man abhorr'd,
Around whose throne stands trembling Doubt,
Whose jealous eyes still rowl about,
And Murder with his reeking sword?
Where trampling Tyranny with Fate
And black Revenge gigantick goes,
Hark, how the dying infants shriek,
How hopeless age is sunk in woes!
Fly, mortals, from that fated land,
Tho' rivers rowl o'er golden sand;
Tho' birds in shades of cassia sing,
Harvests and fruits spontaneous rise,
No storms disturb the smiling skies,
And each soft breeze rich odours bring.
And black Revenge gigantick goes,
Hark, how the dying infants shriek,
How hopeless age is sunk in woes!
Fly, mortals, from that fated land,
Tho' rivers rowl o'er golden sand;
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Harvests and fruits spontaneous rise,
No storms disturb the smiling skies,
And each soft breeze rich odours bring.
Britannia, watch!—remember peerless Rome,
Her high-tow'r'd head dash'd meanly to the ground;
Remember, freedom's guardian, Grecia's doom,
Whom weeping the despotic Turk has bound:
May ne'er thy oak-crown'd hills, rich meads & downs,
(Fame, virtue, courage, property, forgot)
Thy peaceful villages, and busy towns,
Be doom'd some death-dispensing tyrant's lot;
On deep foundations may thy freedom stand,
Long as the surge shall lash thy sea-encircled land.
Her high-tow'r'd head dash'd meanly to the ground;
Remember, freedom's guardian, Grecia's doom,
Whom weeping the despotic Turk has bound:
May ne'er thy oak-crown'd hills, rich meads & downs,
(Fame, virtue, courage, property, forgot)
Thy peaceful villages, and busy towns,
Be doom'd some death-dispensing tyrant's lot;
On deep foundations may thy freedom stand,
Long as the surge shall lash thy sea-encircled land.
| Odes on Various Subjects | |