And like it free, My fabric ftands complete,
The Palace of the Laws to the four heavens, 1180
For gates impartial thrown, unceafing crowds,
With kings themfelves the hearty peatant mix'd,
Pour urgent in; and tho' to different ranks
Refponfive place belongs, yet equal spreads
The fhelt'ring roof o'er all; while Plenty flows,
And glad Contentment echoes round the whole.
Ye. Floods! defcend; ye winds' confirming, blow;
Nor outward tempeft, nor corrofive time,
Nought but the felon undermining hand
Of dark Corruption, can its frame diffolve, 1190
And lay the toil of ages into duft.
THE Author addriffes the Goddess of Liberty; marking the happincts and grandeur of Great Britain, as aufing from her influence, to ver. 88. She refumes her difcourfe, and points out the chief virtues which are neceffery to maintain her eftablishment there, to ver. 374. Recommends, as its laft ornament and finihing, Sciences, fine Arts, and public Works The encouragement of thefe urg'd from the example of France, though under a despotic government, to ver. 549. The whole concludes with a profpect of future times, given by the Goddess of Li erty; this defcribed by the Author, as it pales in Vifion before him.
Ch: bleft Britannia! in thy prefence bleft. Thou guardian of mankind! whence ipring, alone,
All human grandeur, happiness, and fame: "For Foil, by the prote&ed, feels no pain; "The poor man's lot with milk and honey flows; And, gilded with thy rays, c'en death looks gay. Let other lands the potent bleflings beaft "Of more exalting fans: let Afia's woods, Untended, yield the vegetable fleece; "And let the little infect arti! form, "On higher life intent its filken tomb: "Let wondering rocks, in ra liant birth, disclose "The various tinctur'd children of the Sun "From the prone beam let more delicious fruits "A flavour drink, that in one piercing tafte 15 "Bids cach combine; let Gallic vineyards burft "With floods of joy; with mild balfamic juice "The Incan olive; 1st Arabia breathe
Her spicy ales, her vital gunts diftil:
Turbid with gold, let fouthern rivers flow,
And or ht foods draw foit o'er pearls, their
"Let Afric vaunt her treafures: let Peru
"Where flames the falling day in wealth and praife,
"Shall with Britannia vie, while, Goddess! fhe "Derives her praife from 1 hee, her matchless charms.
"Her hearty fruits the hand of Freedon own; "And, warm with culture, her thick cluft'ring fields
"Prolific teem. Eternal verdure crowns "Her mcads; her gardens fmile eternal spring: "She gives the hunter-horle, unquell'd by toil, "Ardent, to rush into the rapid chafe:
She, whitening o'er her downs, diffufive, pours "Unnumber'd flocks: the weaves the fleecy robe "That wraps the nations: fhe to lufty droves 40 "The richest paflure fpreads; and her's deep
"Autumnal feas of pleafing plenty round. "Thefe her delights; and by no baneful herb, "No darting tiger, no grim lions glare, "No fierce-defcending wolf, no ferpent, roll'd "In fpires immenfe progreffive o'er the land, 46 "Difurb'd. Enlivening thefe, add cities full "Of wealth, of trade, of chearful toiling crowds; "Add thriving towns; add villages and farms, Innumerous fow'd along the lively vale, 50 "Where bold unrivall'd pealants happy dwell: (( Add ancient feats, with venerable oaks
I mbetom'd high, while kindred floods below "Wind thro' the mead; and thofe of modern hand "More pompous, add, that fplendid fine afar. "Need I her limpid lakes, her rivers, name, 56 "Where fworni'd the finny race? Thee, chief,
"All ocean is her own, and every land "10 whom her ruling thunder ocean bears. 65 She, too, the mineral feeds: th' obedient lead, "The warlike iron, nor the peaceful !els, "Forming of life art-civiliz'd the band; "And that the Tytan merchant fought of old, "Not dreaming then of Britain's brighter fame. "She rears to Freedom an undaunted race: "Compatriot zealous, hofpitable, kind, "Her's the warm Cambrian: her's the lofty Seot, "To hardship tam'd, active in arts and arms, "Fit'd with a reflefs an impatient flame, "That leads him raptur'd where Ambition calls: "And English Merit her's, where meet, com
"Great nurfe of fruits, of flocks, of commerce, | Philofophy, companion ever new.
"Great nurse of men! By Thee, O Goddefs!
"Her old renown I trace, difclofe her fource "Of wealth, of grandeur, and to Britons fing "A frain the Mufes never touch'd before.' "85 "But how fall this thy mighty Kingdom fland?
"On what unyielding bafe? how finish'd fhine ?" At this her eye, collecting all its fire, Beam'd more then human; and her awful voice Majeftic thus the rais'd To Britons bear 90 "This clofing frain, and with intenfer note "Loud let it found in their awaken'd ear."
On Virtue can alone My Kingdom stand, On Public Virtue, every Virtue join'd; For loft this focial cement of mankind, The greatest empires, by fcarce felt degrees, Wil moulder foft away, till, tottering loofe, They prone at last to total rain rush. Unbleft by Virtue, Government a league Becomes, a circling junto of the great, To rob by law; Religion mild a yoke To tame the ftooping foul, a trick of fate To mask their rapine, and to fhare the prey. What are without it Senates, fave a face O confultation deep and reafon free, While the determin'd voice and heart are fold? What boafted Freedom, fave a founding name? And what Election, but a market vile
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of flaves fulf-barter'd? Virtue! without thee
There is no ruling eye, no nerve, in ftates;
War has no vigour, and no fafety peace:
L'en juftice warps to party, laws opprefs,
Wide thro' the land their weak-protection fails;
First broke the ha'auce, and then icorn'd the fword.
Thus nations fink, fociety diffolves;
Rapine, and Guile, and Violence, break loofe,
Everting life, and turning love to gall;
Man hates the face of man, and Indian woods
And Libya's hifling fands to him are tame.
These cheer his rural, and fuftain or fire,
When into action call'd, his busy hours.
Mean time true judging moderate defires,
Economy and tafte, combin'd, direct
His clear affairs, and from debauching fiends
Secure his little kingdom. Nor can those
Whom Fortune heaps, without thefe Virtues,
reach
That truce with pain, that animated eafe,
That felf-enjoyment fpringing from within, 150
That Independence, active or retir'd,
Which makes the foundeft blifs of man below;
But, loft beneath the rubbish of their means,
And drain'd by wants to Nature ali unknown,
A wandering, taftelefs, gaily-wretched train; 155
Tho' rich, are beggars, and tho' noble, flaves.
Lo! damn'd to wealth, at what & grofs expence They purchase difappointment, pain, and hame! Instead of hearty hofpitable cheer,
See how the hall with brutal riot flows!
While in the foaming flood, fermenting, fteep'd,
The country maddens into party-rage
Mark thofe difgraceful piles of wood and tone,
Thofe parks and gardens, where, his haunts be-
trimm'd,
And Nature by prefumptuous Art opprefs'd, 165
The woodland Genius mourns. See the full board
That fteams difguft, and bowls that give no joy;
No Truth invited there to feed the mind,
Nor Wit the wine rejoicing reafon quaffs.
Hark how the dome with infolence relounds, 170
With thofe retain'd by Vanity to feare
Repofe and friends. To tyrant Fashion mark
The coftly worship paid, to the broad gaze
Of fools. From ftill delufive day to day,
Led an eternal round of lying hope,
See, felf-abandon'd, how they roam adrift,
Dafh'd o'er the town, a miferable wreck!
Then to adore fome warbling eunuch turn'd,
With Midas' ears they crowd; or to the buzz
Of Masquerade unblufhing; or, to show
Their fçorn of Nature, at the Tragic fcene
They mirthful fit, or prove the Comic true.
But, chief, behold! around the rattling board,
The civil robbers rang'd; and e'en the fair,
The tender Fair each sweetness laid afide, 185
As fierce for plunder as all-licens'd troops
In fome fack'd city. Thus diffolv'd their wealth,
Without one generous luxury diffolv'd,
Gr quarter'd on it many a needlefs want.
At the throng'd levee bends the venal tribe; 190
With fair but faithlefs fmiles each varnish'd o'er,
Each smooth as thofe that mutually deceive,
And for their falichood each defpifing cach,
Till fhook their patron by the wintry winds,
Wide flies the wither'd thower, and leaves him
bare.
O far fuperior Afric's fable fons,
By merchant pilfer'd, to thefe willing flaves!
And rich as un qeez'd favourite to them,
Is he who can his Virtue boaft alone!
Britons! be firm, nor let Corruption fly
Twine tound your heart indiffoluble chains!
The teel of Brutus burât the groffer bands
Life tedious grows, an idly-bufling round,
Fill'd up with action animal and mean,
A dull gazette! Th' impatient reader fcorns
The poor hiftoric page, till kindly comes
Oblivion, and redeems a peoples' fhame
Not fo the times when, emulation ftung,
Greece fhone in Genius, Science, and in Arts,
And Rome in virtues dreadful to be told 1
To live was glory then! and charm'd mankind,
Thro' the deep periods of devolving time 275
Thofe, raptur'd, copy; thofe, affonih'd, read.
True, a corrupted ftate, with every vice
And every meannefs foul, this paffion damps.
Who can, unfhock'd, behold the cruel eye?
The pale inveigling foie? the ruffian front?
The wretch abandon'd to relentless Self,
Equally vile if mifer or profufe ?
Powers not of God, affiduous to corrupt?
The fell-d puted tyrant, who devours
The poor and weak, at diftance from redrefs?
Delirious Faction bellowing loud My name? 286
The falfe fair-feeming patriot's hollow boaft?
My facred rights a merchandife alone
A race refolv'd on bondage, fierce for chains,
Efteeming, and to work their feeder's will 295
By deeds, a horror to mankind, prepar'd,
As were the dregs of Romulus of old?
But who unpitying? To the generous eye
Who thefe indeed, can underesting fee:
Diftrefs is virtue; and, tho' felf-betray'd, 295
A people struggling with their fate must roule
The hero's throb. Nor can a land, at once
Be loft to virtue quite. How glorious, then!
Fit luxury for gods! to fave the good,
Protect the feeble, dash bold Vice afide,
Deprefs the wicked, and restore the frail !
Pofterity, befides, the young are pure,
And fons may tinge their father's cheek with
Should then the time arrive (which Heaven
That Britons bend unnerv'd, not by the force Of arms, more generous, and more manly, quell'd, But by Corruption's foul dejecting arts, Arts impudent and grofs! by their own gold, in part beftow'd to bribe them to give all; With party raging, or immers'd in floth, Should they Britannia's well fought laurels yield To flily conquering Gaul, e'en from her brow 250 Let her own naval oak be bafely torn,
is not enough, from felf right understood Reflected, that thy rays inflame the heart; Tho' Virtue not difdains appeals to self, Dreads not the trial, all her joys are true, Nor is there any real joy fave her's Far lefs the tepid, the declaiming race, Foes torruption, to its wages friends, Or those whom private paffions, for a while, Beneath My standard lift, can they fuffice To raife and fix the glory of My reign? An active flood of univerfal love Mult fwell the breaft. First, in effufion wide, The reflefs fpirit roves creation round, And feizes every being; fronger then, It tends to life, whate'er the kindred fearch Of blifsallys; then, more collected fill, It urges human-kind; a paffion grown, At laft, the central parent public calls Its utmost effort forth, awakes each sense, The comely, grand. and tender. Without this, This awful pant, fkook from sublimer powers Than thofe of Self, this heaven infus'd delight, This moral invitation, rufhing forth To prefs the public good, My fyftem foon, Traverse, to feveral felfifh centres drawn, Will reel to ruin, while for ever fhut Stand the bright portals of defponding Fame. From fordid self fhoot up the fhining deeds, None of those ancient lights that gladdens earth, Give grace to being, and aroufe the brave To juft ambition, Virtue's quickening fire! 265
By fuch as tremble at the stiffening gale,
And nervelefs fink while others fing rejoic'd; 315
Or (darker profpect! fcarce one gleam behind
Difclofing) fhould the broad corruptive plague
Breathe from the city to the fartheft hut,
That fits ferene within the foreft-shade,
The fever'd people fire, inflame their wants 319
And their luxurious thirft, fo gathering rage,
That, were a buyer found, they stand prepar'd
To fell their birthright for a cooling draught;
Should fhameless pens for plain Corruption plead,
The hir'd affaffins of the commonweal!
Deem the declaiming rant of Greece and Ronie,
Should Public Virtue grow the public fcoff,
Till Private, falling, Baggers thro' the land;
Till round the City loose mechanic, Want,
Impreft, renown had left no trace behind;
Dire-prowling nightly, makes the chearful haunts | In vain, to future times, the fage had thought,
Of men more hideous than Numidian wilds, 331
Nor from its fury fleeps the vale in peace,
And murders, horrors, perjuries abound;
Nay, till to loweft deeds the highest stoop,
The rich, like starving wretches, thirst for gold,
335
And these on whom the vernal showers of Heaven
All-bounteous fall, and that prinie lot beftow,
A power to live to Nature and themselves,
In fick attendance wear their anxious days,
With fortune joylefs, and with honours mean. 340
Mean time, perhaps, profuùon flows around,
The waste of war, without the works of peace;
No mark of millions in the gulph absorpt
of uncreating Vice, none but the rage
Of rous'd Corruption still demanding more:
That very portion which (by faithful skill
Employ'd) night make the fmiling public rear
Her ornantented head, drill'd thro' the hands
Of mercenary tools, ferves but to nurse
A locuft band within, and in the bud
Leaves starv'd each work of dignity and use.
Anation be; let trade enormous rise,
Let Eat and South their mingled treasure pour;
Till, fwell'd impetuous, the corrupting flood
Burft o'er the City, and devour the land;
Yet thefe neglected, these recording Arts,
Wealth rots, a nuifance! and, oblivious funk,
That nation must another Carthage lie.
If not by them on monumental brafs,
The legislator plann'd, the hero found
A beauteous death, the patriot toil'd in vain :
Th' awarders they of Fame's immortal wreath:
395
They roufe Ambition, they the mind exalt,
Give great ideas, lovely forms infufe,
Delight the general eye; and, dreft by them,
The moral Venus glows with double charms.
Science, My clofe affociate, ftill attends
Where'er I go. Sometimes in fimple guife.
She walks the furrow with fome Conful-fwain,
Whispering unletter'd wisdom to the heart,
Direct; or, fometimes, in the pompous robe ! -
Of Fancy dreft, fhe charms Athenian wits,
And a whole fapient city round her buras.
Then o'er her brow Minerva's terrors nod.
With Xenophon, fometimes, in dire extremes,
She breathes deliberate foul, and makes retreat
Unequall'd glory. With the Theban fage, 410
Epaminondas, firft and best of men!
Sometimes the bids the deep embattled hoft,
Above the vulgar reach refiftlefs form'd,
March to fure conqueft-never gain'd before!
Nor on the treacherous feas of giddy state
Unfkilful the: when the triumphant tide
Of high-swoln Empire wears one boundless smile,
And the gale tempts to new pursuits of fame,
Sometimes, with Scipio, fhe collects her fail,
And seeks the blissful shore of rural cafe,
Where, but the Aonian maids, no Sirens fing:
Or fhould the deep-brew'd tempeft muttering rife,
While rocks and thoals perfidious lurk around,
With Tully the her wide-reviving light
The senates holds, a Catiline confounds,
And faves a while from Cæfar finking Rome.
Such the kind power whofe piercing eye diffolves
Each mental fetter, and fets reafon tree;
For Me infpiring an enlighten'd zeal,
The more tenacious the more convinc'd
How happy Freemen, and how wretched Slaves.
To Britons not unknown, to Britons full
The goddess spreads her ftores, the fecret foul
That quickens Trade, the breath unfeen that wafts/
To them the treasures of a balanc'd world: 435
But finer arts (fave what the Muse has fung
In daring flight, above all modern wing)
Neglected droop the head, and Public Works,
Broke by Corruption into Private Gain,
Not ornament, difgrace; not ferve, deftroy. 440
Shall Britons, by their own joint wisdom rul'd,/
Beneath one Royal head, whose vital power
Connects, enlivens, and exerts the whole;
In finer arts, and Public Works, fhall they
To Gallia yield? yield to a land that bends, 445
Depreft and broke, beneath the will of one?
Of one who, fhould th' unkingly thirst of gold,
Or tyrant passions, or ambition, prompt,
Calls locuft-armies o'er the blafted land;
Drains from its thirsty bounds the Springs of
wealth,
His own infatiate refervoir to fill;
To the lone defert Patriot merit frowns,
Or into dungeons Arts, when they their chains,
On fculptur'd marble, on the deathlefs page, 390 Indignant, bursting, for their noblr works
All other licenfe fcorn but Truth's and Mine?
455
Oh! fhame to think! shall Britons, in the field
Unconquer'd ftill, the better laurel lofe?
E'en in that monarch's reign* who vainly dreamt,
By giddy power betray'd, and flatter'd pride,
To grafp unbounded fway; while, fwarming
round,
460
His armies dar'd all Europe to the field;
To hoftile hands, while treasure flow'd profufe,
And, that great fource of treafure fubjects' blood,
Inhuman fquander'd, ficken'd every land;
From Britain, chief, while My fuperior fons, 465
In vengeance rushing, dafh'd his idle hopes,
And bade his agonizing heart be low;
E'en then, as in the golden calm of peace!
What Public Works, at home, what Arts arole!
What various Science fhone! what Genius glow'd!
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Coyeft of arts, how Sculpture northward deign'd
A look, and bade her Girardon arife;
How lavish Grandeur blaz'd the barren waste,
Aftonish'd, faw the fudden palace fwell,
510
And fountains fpout amid its arid fhades;
For leagues, bright viftas opening to the view,
How forests in majestic gardens fmil'd
How menial Arts, by their gay fifters taught,
Wove the deep flower, the blooming foliage train'd
513
In joyous figures o'er the filky lawn,JA
The palace cheerd, illum'd the story'd wall,
And with the pencil vy'd the glowing loom."
Thefe laurels, Louis! by the droppings rais'd
Of thy profufion, its difhonor fhade,
520
And green thro' future times fhall bind thy brow,
While the vain honours of perfidious war
Wither abhorr'd, or in oblivion loft.
With what prevailing vigour had they shot,
And ftole a deeper root, by the full tide
Of war-funk millions fed fuperior still,
How had they branch'd luxuriant to the skies,
In Britain planted, by the potent juice
Of Freedom fwell'd! Fore'd is the bloom of Arts,
A falfe uncertain fpring, when Bounty gives, 530
Weak without Me, a tranfitory gleam.
Fair fhine the flippery days, enticing skies
Of favour smile, and courtly breezes blow,
Till Afts, betray'd, truft to the flattering sir
Their tender bloffom; then malignant rife
The blights of Envy, of those infect-clouds
That, blafting merit, often cover courts:
Nay, fhould, perchance, fome kind Mecenas aid
485 The doubtful beanings of his prince's foul,
His wavʼring ardour fix, and unconfin'd
Diffufe his warm beneficence around; ·
Yet death, at last, and wintry tyrants, come,
Each fprig of genius killing at the root:
'Tis not for me to paint, diffufive fhot
O'er fair extents of land, the fhining Road;
The flood-compelling Arch! the long Canal, †
Thro' mountains piercing, and uniting feas;
The Dome & refounding fweet with infant joy, 475
From Famine fav'd, or cruel-handed Shame,
And that where Valour counts his noble scars ; ‡
The land where focial pleasure loves to dwell,
Of the fierce demon, Gothic Duel, freed ;
The Robber from his fartheft foreft chas'd;
The turbid city clear'd, and, by degrees,
Into fure peace the best Police refin'd,
Magnificence, and grace, and decent joy.
Let Gallic bards record how honour'd Arts
And Science, by defpotic bounty blefs'd,
At distance flourifh'd from My parent oye;
Restoring ancient tafte, how Boileau rofe;
How the big Roman foul fhook, in Corneill,
The trembling stage; in elegant Racine,
How the more powerful, tho' niore humble, voice
490
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| But when with Me imperial Bounty joins, "
Wide o'er the Public blows eternal Spring, 545
While mingled Autunm every harvest pours
Of every land whate'er Invention, Art,
Creating Toil, and Nature, can produce.
Here ceas'd the goddess, and her ardent wings, Dipt in the colours of the heavenly bow, 550 Stood waving radiance round, for fudden flight Prepar'd, when thus, impatient, burst my prayer: "Oh! forming Light of Life! Oh! better Sun! "Sun of mankind! by whom the cloudy North,
Sublim'd, not envies Languedocian fkies, 555
"That, unftain'd ether all, diffusive fmile,
"When fhall we call these ancient laurels ours?
And when Thy work complete ?" Straight with
her hand,
Celeftial red, the touch'd my darken'd eyes:
As at the touch of day the fhades diffolve, **-560
So quick, methought, the mifty circle clear'd,
That dims the dawn of being here below;
The future thone difclos'd, and, in long view,
Bright riling eras instant rush'd to light.
They come ! Great Goddess! I the times behold,
The times our fathers, in the bloody field,
The tapestry of Gobelins.
|