Thou nurse of great design, of lofty thought,
What homicide, had thy insensate rage
Effaced the sacred lesson thou hadst taught,
And with thy purest blood inscribed on Glory's
page!
Ah, rather haste to Concord's holy shrine,
Ye rival nations-haste with joy elate;
Your blending garlands round her altar twine,
And bind the wounds of no immortal hate :
Go, breathe responsive rituals o'er the sod
Where Freedom's martyrs press an early grave;
Go, vow that never shall their turf be trod
By the polluting step of tyrant or of slave!
And from your shores the abject Vices chase-
That low Ambition generous souls disdain,
Corruption blasting every moral grace,
Servility that kneels to bless his chain!
Oh Liberty, those demons far remove:
Come, nymph, severely good, sublimely great; Nor to the' enraptured hope of mortals prove Like those illusive dreams that pass the ivory gate!
New age, that rollest o'er man thy dawning year,
Ah, sure all happy omens hail thy birth;
Sure whiter annals in thy train appear,
And purer glory cheers the gladden'd Earth.
Like the young eagle, when his steadfast glance
Meets the full sunbeam in his upward flight,
So thou shalt with majestic step advance,
And fix thy dauntless eye on Liberty and Light!
Is there, or do the schoolmen dream,
Is there on earth a power supreme,
The delegate of Heaven?
To whom an uncontrol'd command,
In every realm o'er sea and land,
By special grace is given?
Then say,
what signs this god proclaim?
Dwells he amid the diamond's flame,
A throne his hallow'd shrine?
The borrow'd pomp, the arm'd array,
Want, Fear, and Impotence betray:
Strange proofs of power divine!
If service due from humankind,
To men in slothful ease reclined,
Can form a sovereign's claim;
Hail, monarchs! ye whom Heaven ordains,
Our toils unshared, to share our gains,
Ye idiots, blind and lame!
Superior virtue, wisdom, might
Create and mark the ruler's right,
So reason must conclude:
Then thine it is, to whom belong
The wise, the virtuous, and the strong,
Thrice sacred multitude!
In thee, vast ALL! are these contain❜d,
For thee are those, thy parts, ordain'd,
So Nature's systems roll:
The sceptre's thine, if such there be;
If none there is, then thou art free,
Great monarch! mighty whole !
Let the proud tyrant rest his cause
On faith, prescription, force, or laws,
A host's or senate's voice!
His voice affirms thy stronger due,
Who for the many made the few,
And gave the species choice.
Unsanctified by thy command,
Unown'd by thee, the sceptred hand
The trembling slave may bind :
But, loose from Nature's moral ties,
The oath by force imposed belies
The unassenting mind.
Thy will's thy rule, thy good its end;
You punish only to defend
What parent nature gave:
And he who dares her gifts invade,
By nature's oldest law is made
Thy victim or thy slave.
Thus reason founds the just decree
On universal liberty,
Not private rights resign'd:
Through various Nature's wide extent,
No private beings e'er were meant
To hurt the general kind.
Thee justice guides, thee right maintains,
The' oppressor's wrongs, the pilferer's gains
Thy injured weal impair.
Thy warmest passions soon subside,
Nor partial envy, hate, nor pride
Thy temper'd counsels share.
Each instance of thy vengeful rage,
Collected from each clime and age,
Though malice swell the sum,
Would seem a spotless scanty roll,
Compared with Marius' bloody scroll,
Or Sylla's hippodrome.
But thine has been imputed blame,
The' unworthy few assume thy name,
The rabble weak and loud:
Or those who on thy ruins feast,
The lord, the lawyer, and the priest;
A more ignoble crowd.
Avails it thee, if one devours,
Or lesser spoilers share his powers,
While both thy claim oppose?
Monsters who wore thy sullied crown,
Tyrants who pull'd those monsters down,
Alike to thee were foes.
Far other shone fair Freedom's hand,
Far other was the' immortal stand,
When Hambden fought for thee:
They snatch'd from rapine's gripe thy spoils,
The fruits and prize of glorious toils,
Of arts and industry.
On thee yet foams the preacher's rage,
On thee fierce frowns the' historian's page,
A false apostate train :
Tears stream adown the martyr's tomb,
Unpitied in their harder doom,
Thy thousands strew the plain.
These had no charms to please the sense,
No graceful port, no eloquence
To win the Muse's throng:
Unknown, unsung, unmark'd they lie;
But Cæsar's fate o'ercasts the sky,
And Nature mourns his wrong.
Thy foes, a frontless band, invade;
Thy friends afford a timid aid,
And yield up half thy light.
Even Locke beams forth a mingled ray,
Afraid to pour the flood of day
On man's too feeble sight.
Hence are the motley systems framed,
Of right transferr'd, of power reclaim'd,
Distinctions weak and vain.
Wise Nature mocks the wrangling herd;
For unreclaim'd and untransferr'd
Her powers and rights remain.
While law the royal agent moves,
The instrument thy choice approves,
We bow through him to you.
But change, or cease the' inspiring choice,
The sovereign sinks a private voice,
Shall then the wretch whose dastard heart Shrinks at a tyrant's nobler part,
|