No matter how he slept amongst the dead,
And James his brother reigned in his stead :
But such a reign-so glaring an offence
In ev'ry step 'gainst freedom, law, and sense,
'Gainst all the rights of Nature's gen'ral plan,
'Gainst all which constitutes an Englishman,
That the relation would mere fiction seem,
The mock creation of a poet's dream,
And the poor bards would, in this sceptic age,
Appear as false as their historian's page.
Ambitious folly seiz'd the seat of wit,
Christians were forc'd by bigots to submit ;
Pride without sense, without religion zeal,
Made daring inroads on the commonweal;
Stern Persecution rais'd her iron rod,
And call'd the pride of kings the pow'r of God; Conscience and fame were sacrific'd to Rome, 655 And England wept at Freedom's sacred tomb.
Her laws despis'd, her constitution wrench'd From its due nat'ral frame, her rights retrench'd Beyond a coward's suff'rance, conscience forc'd, And healing justice from the crown divorc'd, 660 Each moment pregnant with vile acts of pow'r, Her patriot bishops sentenc'd to the Tow'r, Her Oxford (who yet loves the Stewart name) Branded with arbitrary marks of shame, She wept-but wept not long; to arms she flew, At Honour's call th' avenging sword she drew,
Turn'd all her terrors on the tyrant's head,
And sent him in despair to beg his bread;
Whilst she, (may ev'ry state in such distress
Dare with such zeal, and meet with such success) 670
Whilst she, (may Gotham, should my abject mind
Choose to enslave rather than free mankind,
Pursue her steps, tear the proud tyrant down,
Nor let me wear if I abuse the crown)
Whilst she, (thro' ev'ry age, in ev'ry land, 675
Written in gold, let Revolution stand)
Whilst she, secur'd in liberty and law,
Found what she sought, a saviour in Nassau. 678
CAN the fond mother from herself depart?
Can she forget the darling of her heart,
The little darling whom she bore and bred,
Nurs'd on her knees, and at her bosom fed,
To whom she seem'd her ev'ry thought to give, 5
And in whose life alone she seem'd to live?
Yes, from herself the mother may depart,
She may forget the darling of her heart,
The little darling whom she bore and bred,
Nurs'd on her knees, and at her bosom fed,
To whom she seem'd her ev'ry thought to give,
And in whose life alone she seem'd to live;
But I cannot forget, whilst life remains,
And pours her current thro' these swelling veins,
Whilst Mem'ry offers up at Reason's shrine,
But I cannot forget that Gotham's mine.
Can the stern mother, than the brutes more wild, From her disnatur'd breast tear her young child, Flesh of her flesh, and of her bone the bune, And dash the smiling babe against a stone? Yes, the stern mother, than the brutes more wild, From her disnatur'd breast may tear her child, Flesh of her flesh, and of her bone the bone, And dash the smiling babe against a stone;
But I, (forbid it, Heav'n!) but I can ne'er
The love of Gotham from this bosom tear,
Can ne'er so far true royalty pervert
From its fair course to do my people hurt.
With how much ease, with how much confidence, As if, superior to each grosser sense
Reason had only, in full pow'r array'd,
To manifest her will, and be obey'd,
Men make resolves, and pass into decrees
The motions of the mind! with how much ease,
In such resolves, doth passion make a flaw,
And bring to nothing what was rais'd to law!
In empire young, scarce warm on Gotham's throne,
The dangers and the sweets of pow'r unknown,
Pleas'd, tho' I scarce knowwhy, like some young child
Whose little senses each new toy turns wild,
How do I hold sweet dalliance with my crown,
And wanton with dominion! how lay down,
Without the sanction of a precedent,
Rules of most large and absolute extent,
Rules which from sense of public virtue spring, 45
And all at once commence a patriot king!
But, for the day of trial is at hand,
And the whole fortunes of a mighty land
Are stak'd on me, and all their weal or wo
Must from my good or evil conduct flow,
Will I, or can I, on a fair review,
As I assume that name deserve it too?
Have I well weigh'd the great the noble part
I'm now to play? have I explor❜d my heart,
That labyrinth of fraud, that deep dark cell,
Where, unsuspected ev'n by me, may dwell
Ten thousand follies? have I found out there
What I am fit to do and what to bear?
Have I trac'd ev'ry passion to its rise,
Nor spar'd one lurking seed of treach'rous vice? 60
Have I familiar with my nature grown?
And am I fairly to myself made known?
A patriot king-Why, 't is a name which bears
The more immediate stamp of Heav'n, which wears
The nearest, best, resemblance we can show
Of God above thro' all his works below.
To still the voice of discord in the land,
To make weak Faction's discontented band,
Detected, weak, and crumbling to decay,
With hunger pinch'd on their own vitals prey;
Like brethren in the self-same int'rests warm'd,
Like diff'rent bodies with one soul inform'd ;
To make a nation nobly rais'd above
All meaner thought grow up in common love;
To give the laws due vigour, and to hold
That secret balance temperate yet bold,
With such an equal hand, that those who fear
May yet approve, and own my justice clear;
To be a common father, to secure
The weak from violence, from pride the poor; 80
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