Tremble and be amaz'd at thine escape, 160 165 Did not his eye rule all things, and intend The least of our concerns; (since from the least The greatest oft originate;) could chance Find place in his dominion, or dispose 170 175 180 That live an atheist life; involves the Heavens 185 And taints the golden ear. He springs his mines, And bids the world take heart and banish fear. 195 Thou fool? will thy discov'ry of the cause Still wrought by means since first he made the world? To drown it? What is his creation less, Go, dress thine eyes with eye-salve; ask of Him, 200 And learn, though late, the genuine cause of all. 205 England, with all thy faults, I love thee still My country! and, while yet a nook is left, Where English minds and manners may be found, 210 I would not yet exchange thy sullen skies, And fields without a flow'r, for warmer France Of golden fruitage, and her myrtle bow 'rs. 215 To shake thy senate, and from heights sublime Of patriot eloquence to flash down fire Upon thy foes, was never meant my task: 220 How in the name of soldiership and sense, 225 Should England prosper, when such things, as smooth And tender as a girl, all essenc'd o'er With odours, and as profligate as sweet; Who sell their laurel for a mirtle wreath, And love when they should fight: when such as these Presume to lay their hand upon the ark 231 Of her magnificent and awful cause? Time was when it was praise and boast enough In every clime, and travel where we might, That Chatham's language was his mother-tongue, 240 If any wrong'd her. Wolfe, where'er he fought, That his example had a magnet's force, 250 And all were swift to follow whom all lov'd. Those suns are set. O rise some other such! Or all that we have left is empty talk Now hoist the sail, and let the streamers float 255 Upon the wanton breezes. Strew the deck That no rude savour maritime invade The nose of nice nobility! Breathe soft, Ye clarionets; and softer still, ye flutes; 260 That winds and waters, lul'd by magick sounds, May bear us smoothly to the Gallic shore. True, we have lost an empire-let it pass. True, we may thank the perfidy of France, 265 Forgets in peace the injuries of war, And gives his direst foe a friend's embrace. 270 And sham'd as we have been, to th' very beard Brav'd and defied, and in our own sea prov'd 275 280 To those that need it. Folly is soon learn'd! There is a pleasure in poetick pains, 285 Which only poets know. The shifts and turns, Though apt, yet coy, 290 The mirror of the mind and hold them fast, A faithful likeness of the forms he views; Then to dispose his copies with such art, That each may find its most propitious light, 295 And shine by situation, hardly less Than by the labour and the skill it cost; Are occupations of the poet's mind So pleasing, and that steal away the thought, With such address from themes of sad import, 300 That, lost in his own musings, happy man! He feels the anxieties of life denied Their wonted entertainment; all retire. Such joys has he that sings. But ah! not such, 305 Their least amusement where he found the most. 310 But is amusement all? Studious of song, 315 What vice has it subdued? whose heart reclaim'd 320 By rigour, or whom laugh'd into reform? Alas! Leviathan is not so tam'd. Laugh'd at, he laughs again; and stricken hard, The pulpit, therefore-(and I name it fill'd 325 330 Spent all his force, and made no proselyte)— I say the pulpit (in the sober use Of its legitimate peculiar pow'rs) Must stand acknowledg'd, while the world shall stand, The most important and effectual guard, Support, and ornament, of Virtue's cause. There stands the messenger of truth; there stands 335 The legate of the skies!-His theme divine, His office sacred, his credentials clear. By him the violated law speaks out 340 Its thunders: and by him, in strains so sweet As angels use, the Gospel whispers peace. He 'stablishes the strong, restores the weak, Reclaims the wand'rer, binds the broken heart, 345 Of heav'nly temper, furnishes with arms |