And throws him down beneath the vile degree
Of galley'd flaves, or dungeon villainy !

O! Murray! Murray! once of truth approv'd,
Your prince's darling, by his party lov'd,
When all were fond your worth and fame to raise,
And expectation fpoke your future praise,

How could you fell that prince, that cause, that fame,

For life enchain'd to infamy and shame ?

30

See gallant ARTHUR*, whofe undaunted foul
No dangers frighten, and no fears controul,
With unconcern the ax and block furveys,
And smiles at all the dreadful fcene displays;
While undisturb'd his thoughts fo fleady keep, 35
He goes to death as others go to fleep.
Gay midft their gibbets and devouring fire,
What numbers hardy in the cause expire!

Behold the menial hand that broke your bread,

That wip'd your fhoes, and with your crumbs was

fed,

When life and riches, profer'd to his view,

Before his eyes the ftrong temptation threw,
Rather than quit integrity of heart,
Or act, like you, th'unmanly traitor's part,

40

Difdains the purchase of a worthless life,

45

And bares the bofom to the butch'ring knife ;

*Lord Balmerino.

V. 32. No dangers fright him, and no labours tire.

Each mean compliance gallantly denies,
And in mute honefty is brave and dies.

While you, tho' tutor'd from your early youth,
To all the principles of fteddy truth,
Tho' ftation, birth, and character confpire,
To kindle in your breaft the manly fire,
Friends, reputation, confcience, all disclaim,
To glory loft, and funk in endless shame;
For the dull privilege to breathe the air,
For everlasting infamy declare,

50

55

And down to late pofterity record

A name that's curs'd, abandon'd, and abhorr'd.

Go, wretch! enjoy the purchase you have gain'd,

Scorn and reproach your every step attend;
By all mankind neglected and forgot,
Retire to folitude, retire and rot.

But whither? whither can the guilty flie'
From the devouring worms that never die?

60

Those inward stings that rack the villain's breast, 65 Haunt his lone houfe, and break his tortur'd rest.

you may find

'Midft caves, 'midft rocks and defarts
A fafe retreat from all the human kind ;
But to what foreign region can you run,
Your greatest enemy, yourself, to shun?

V. 51. Here malice, rapine, accident, conspire,
And now a rabble rages, now a fire.

70

Where e'er thou go'ft, wild anguish and defpair,
And black remorse attend with hideous stare;
Tear your distracted foul with torments fell,
Your paffions devils, and your bosom hell.

Thus may you drag your heavy chain along, 75
Some minutes more inglorious life prolong;
And when the fates fhall cut a coward's breath,
Weary of being, yet afraid of death,

If crimes like thine hereafter are forgiven,

Judas and Murray both may go to heaven.

80

Whose days are dwindled to the shortest span;
Oh! give relief-and heav'n will bless your flore.

These tatter'd cloaths my poverty bespeak,

5

These hoary locks proclaim my lengthen'd years;

And many a furrow in my grief-worn cheek

Has been the channel to a stream of tears.

Yon house, erected on the rifing ground,
With tempting aspect drew me from my road, 10
For plenty there a refidence has found,
And grandeur a magnificent abode :

(Hard is the fate of the infirm and poor!)
Here craving for a morfel of their bread,
A pamper'd menial forc'd me from the door,
To feek a fhelter in an humbler shed.

* First printed 176..

15

Oh! take me to your hofpitable dome,

Keen blows the wind, and piercing is the cold! Short is my paffage to the friendly tomb,

For I am poor and miferably old.

Should I reveal the fource of every grief,

If foft humanity e'er touch'd your breast, Your hands would not withhold the kind relief, And tears of pity could not be represt.

20

Heav'n fends misfortunes-why fhould we repine? 25
'Tis heaven has brought me to the state you fee;
And your condition may be foon like mine,
The child of forrow-and of mifery.

A little farm was my paternal lot,

Then like the lark I sprightly hail'd the morn; 30 But ah! oppreffion forc'd me from my cot, My cattle dy'd, and blighted was my corn.

My daughter-once the comfort of my age!
Lur'd by a villain from her native home,
Is caft abandon'd on the world's wide stage,
And doom'd in fcanty poverty to roam.

My tender wife-fweet foother of my care!
Struck with fad anguish at the stern decree,
Fell-ling'ring fell a victim to defpair,

35

And left the world to wretchedness and me. 40