Blush, and behold the Russian bow;
From forty crowns his mighty brow

To trade--to toil he turns his glorious hand;
That arm which swept the bloody field,

See! the huge axe or hammer wield,

While sceptres wait, and thrones impatient stand.

1 XXII.

O shame to subjects! first renown,

Matchless example to the crown!

Old Time is poor; what age boasts such a sight?
Ye Drones! adore the man divine------

No virtue, still, as mean, decline;

Call Russians barb'rous and yourselves polite.

He, too, of Judah, great as wise,

With Hiram strove in merchandise;

Monarchs with monarchs struggle for an oar!
That Merchant sinking to his grave,

A flood of treasure swells the cave.

The king left much, the Merchant bury'd more.

XXIV.

Is merchant an inglorious name?

No; fit for Pindar such a theme,

Too great for me; I pant beneath the weight!
If loud as Ocean's were my voice,

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* Vas treasure taken from Solomon's tomb 1300 years after his death; 3000 talents at one time, and an immense sum the next.

If words and thoughts to court my choice
Outnumber'd sands, I could not reach its height.

XXV.

Merchants o'er proudest heroes reign;

Those trade in blessing, these in pain,
At slaughter swell, and shout while nations groan:
With purple monarchs Merchants vie:

If great to spend, what to supply?

Priests pray for blessings, Merchants pour 'em down.

XXVI.

Kings Merchants are, in league, and love,

Earth's odours pay soft airs above,

That o'er the teeming field prolific range.
Planets are Merchants, take, return
Lustre and heat; by traffic burn.

The whole creation is one vast Exchange.

XXVII.

Is Merchant an inglorious name?

What say the sons of letter'd Fame,

Proud of their volumes, swelling in their cells?

In open life, in change of scene,

'Mid various manners, throngs of men,

Experience, arts, and solid wisdom dwells.

XXVIII.

Trade, art's mechanic, Nature's stores

Well weighs; to starry science scars;
Reads warm in life (dead-colour'd by the pen)
The sites, tongues, int'rests of the ball:

Who studies trade, he studies all.

Accomplish'd Merchants are accomplish'd men.

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How shall I farther rouse the soul!
How Sloth's lascivious reign controul

By verse with unextinguish'd ardour wrought?
How ev'ry breast inflame with mine?

How bid my theme still brighter shine,
With wealth of words and unexhausted thought?

O thou Dircæan swan on high,

Round whom familiar thunders fly!

While Jove attends a language like his own,
Thy spirit pour, like vernal show'rs;

My verse shall burst out with the flow'rs,
While Britain's trade advances with her sun..

Tho' Britain was not born to fear,

Grasp not at bloody fame from war;

Nor war decline, if thrones your right invade:
Jove gathers tempest black as night;

Jove pours the golden flood of light;

Let Britain thunder, or let Britain trade,

IV.

Britain, a coinet or a star,

In commerce this, or that in war;

Let Britons shout! earth, seas, and skies resound!

Commerce to kindle, raise, preserve,

And spirit dart thro' ev'ry nerve,

Hear from the throne* a voice thro' time renown'd.

*The King's speech.

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LV.

So fall from heav'n the vernal show'rs,

To cheer the glebe and wake the flow'rs:
The bloom call'd forth, see azure skies display'd;
The bird of voice is proud to sing,
Industrious bees ply ev'ry wing,

Distend their cells, and urge their golden trade.

Trade once extinguish'd, Britain's sun

Is gone out too; his race is run;

He shines in vain; her life's an isle indeed,

A spot too small to be overcome:

Ah, dreadful safety! wretched doom!

No foe will conquer what no foe can feed.

VII.

Trade's the source, sinew, soul of all:
Trade's all herself; her's, her's the ball:
Where most unseen, the goddess still is there.
Trade leads the dance, Trade lights the blaze;
The courtier's pomp! the student's ease!
'I was trade at Blenheim fought and clos'd the war.

VIII.

What Rome and all her gods defies?

The Punic oar; behold it rise

And battle for the world! Trade gave the call;
Rich cordials from his naval art

Sent the strong spirits to his heart,

That bid an Afric Merchant grasp the ball.

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1x.

Where is, on earth, Jehovah's home?

Trade mark'd the soil, and built the dome,
In which His Majesty first deign'd to dwell;
The walls with silver sheets o'erlajd,

Rich as the sun, thro' gold unweigh'd,

Bent the moon'd arch, and bid the column swell,

X.

Grandeur unknown to Solomon! *

Methinks the lab'ring earth should groan

Beneath yon' load; created, sure, not made!

Servant and rival of the skies!

Heav'n's arch alone can higher rise;

What hand immortal rais'd thee?---humble Trade.

XI.

Where hadst thou been if left at large,

Those sinewy arms that tugg'd the barge

Had caught at Pleasure on the flow'ry green?
If they that watch'd the midnight star

Had swung behind the rolling car,

Or fill'd it with disgrace, where hadst thou been?

XII.

As by repletion men consume,

Abundance is the miser's doom.

Expend it nobly; he that lets it rust,

Which passing num'rous hands, would shine,

Is not a man, but living mine,

Foe to the gods, and rival to the dust.

*St. Paul's built by the coal-tax.

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