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Poetics

Or, a series of poems, and disquisitions on poetry. By George Dyer

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ODE IX. ON CONSIDERING THE UNSETTLED STATE OF EUROPE, AND THE OPPOSITION WHICH HAD BEEN MADE TO ATTEMPTS FOR THE ABOLITION OF THE SLAVE-TRADE.
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ODE IX. ON CONSIDERING THE UNSETTLED STATE OF EUROPE, AND THE OPPOSITION WHICH HAD BEEN MADE TO ATTEMPTS FOR THE ABOLITION OF THE SLAVE-TRADE.

Why droops Britannia's friend?—Or why,
After short transports, gaily wild,
Seems he to languish o'er a sigh,
Like Sorrow's feverish child?

131

And why the bards, of soul sublime,
Who warbled sweet the rapt'rous rhyme,
Now, as tho' anxious to complain,
Sigh out a lonesome strain?
Thus have I seen on soaring wing
The lark gay-circling rise;
Then midst its varying preludes cease to sing,
And downward darting quit the skies.
Listening I seem'd its absence to deplore,
As tho' the melting strain would never charm me more.
But soon again in notes more clear and strong,
The minstrel-bird struck up its magic song,
When, to the breeze as spreads the fleecy sail,
It pierc'd with fluttering wing the mellow gale.
Thus Fox shall rise, meek Mercy's son,
The sons of verse thus strike a nobler lyre,
Tho' now to catch the living fire,
Anxious to future years they run,
When War shall break his lance, when Slavery shall expire.

132

And, see! I view a distant land;
And, hark! I hear a minstrel band.
The negro-slaves, now slaves no more,
Have struck a chord untouch'd before.
Of Afric's wrongs, and Afric's pains,
Oft had they sigh'd in lonely strains;
A tale it was of woe,
Discordant, sad and slow!
But, now 'tis Freedom's song.—And, see!
How the rapt soul fills the eye!
And, hark! was ever minstrelsy
So wing'd with fire, and strain'd to notes so high?
Wildly grand, and strangely sweet—
Yet all is harmony complete,
As when (so sung) atoms in atoms whirl'd,
And Chaos grew to form, and order rul'd the world.
Me distant hope invites;
Me, panting for maturer day,
The fair young dawn delights;
And leaps my heart, tho' humble flows my lay.
For see o'er fair Columbia's plains
Peace extend her halcyon wings;
And tho' no Washington now reigns,
Still Freedom laughs and sings.
This civic wreath with song I blend to thee,
For thou, oh! Fox, wast first to hail Columbia free.
And lives there still a generous band
Studious to raise our sinking land?

133

Foremost amidst the group I trace
Thy form superior rise with manly grace;
And many a tear I see thee shed
O'er slaves oppress'd, and heroes dead:
On thee thy country's blessing still attend;
Oh! live thy country's hope, the people's generous friend.