Go, then, my Friend, in Honour's cause,
Nor heed the obloquy it draws:
Accoutred thus, fair Truth thy guide,
On shalt thou march with generous pride;
A modern Hercules shalt move,
More arduous Toils and Perils prove.
The glorious Parallel shall run
Till thou surpass Alcmena's son;
For nobler labours claim thy might,
And greater Monsters urge thy fight.
Was the proud Chief of awful Jove
Arin'd by the fav'ring powers above?
Did Ocean's God a shield afford?
Pallas and Hermes helm and sword?
Vulcan a brazen club bestow?
Phoebus his arrows and his bow?
Did thus the daring Hercules
The victims of his prowess seize?
The hundred-headed Savage slay?
And the fierce Centaurs make his prey?
The foul Augean Stables clean
Of their enormous filth obscene?
Tam'd he the Mares of Diomede,
Wont like the Cannibal to feed ?—
By these was his proud might confess'd,
Whilst Men and Gods his altars bless'd?
But, oh, my friend! 'tis left for you
A task more glorious to pursue;
More than Nemean beasts to tame:
To bid vile AVARICE taste of shame;
The Hydra PREJUDICE destroy,
And Giants yet more dire annoy:
Compel that foulest child of Hell,
INGRATITUDE, thy arm to feel:
Drag her fell Snakes to public view,
More fierce than those Alcides slew;
Bid them no longer sting the Breast,
Fit only for an Angel Guest;
No longer cling, with fatal twine,
Round spotless Virtue's native shrine;
Nor, with insidious serpent Art,
Wind round the noble WARWICK's heart.
These from that Paradise expel,
As erst from Heav'n the Spirits fell,
Degraded, from th' indignant skies,
With Lucifer, no more to rise;
And ne'er, till Penitence restore
Their honours, be their exile o'er.
Then Pity, where she long has shone,
In GREVILLE'S breast, her proper throne,
In recompense of Grief sincere,
Shall seal their pardon with a tear.
But till that work of genuine Grace
In their dark bosoms seek a place,
Confessing whence the darkness rose,
Oh, may they prove VANCOUVER's foes!
And only Courage be his friend,
Till Virtue's means gain Virtue's end.
Then what shall recompense the Deed?
Say, what shall be thy glorious meed?
If the first Hercules could claim
Homage as great, as great his Fame;
If Fanes magnificent were rear'd,
And he the Deity rever'd;
If worship, human and divine,
Was heap'd upon his Pagan shrine;
If Statues crown'd th' imperial Dome;
And the Farnese of sacred Rome
Has been with pomp for ages shown,
A Work superior and alone;
If, when his vast exploits were o'er,
The Earth consented to adore;
If on his medals shone the Lyre;
If still his great achievements fire
To mighty deeds, and deathless lays;
The theme of universal praise:-
If to a Hero, stain'd with crime,
Are paid these homages sublime,-
Say, when thy virtuous labours end,
What honours shall thy life attend?
When thou hast taught the Base to know
The worth of salutary woe;
When thou hast made the Good thy care,
And the Poor bless thee in a prayer:
Oh, say what temples shall arise
To point thy Labours to the skies!
What statues shall thy form express?
What medals shall thy power impress?
Shall the enormous shoulders spread?
A Giant's frame, a Giant's head?
Shall we transfer the club and bow,
And near thy figure bid them glow?
Shall the huge arms, and ample chest,
Denote a Hercules confest?
Shall limbs colossal, from the mould
Of sculptur'd marble, brass, or gold,
Seem starting into life, to prove
Thou wert another Son of Jove;
And, tho' thy tasks of toil were o'er,
Thou couldst have borne twelve labours more?
Ah no! Far other Wreaths shall twine
Around VANCOUVER'S purer shrine.
In the rich TEMPLE OF THe Mind,
Sacred to love of humankind,
A nobler altar shall be rais'd
Than e'er in heathen temples blaz'd:
The triumph of a generous Heart,
Accus'd of every selfish Art;
The glory of the Good and Wise,
Without one sordid sacrifice;
Th' ordeal of true Friendship past,
And every Virtue PROV'D at last.
To you the Golden Pen should bend;
To you its grateful verse extend;
For who, like You, from earliest youth
Can testify each glowing Truth?
You, who for thrice ten years have known
The faithful HEART you made your own;
Have watch'd it with a careful eye,
And bless'd it with a virgin sigh:
Have seen it every virtue prove,
Of Honour, Constancy, and Love.
You thro' all changes best can tell
What Bosom Friends alone can feel.
Yes, you in ev'ry trying part Have seen th' ORDEAL of his Heart; Have witness'd it, in Sorrow's hour When Hymen frown'd on Cupid's pow'r; And when the God with alter'd mien Mark'd with glad smile the nuptial scene, That Heart have seen in wedded life, Your bliss as Maiden and as Wife.
'Twas yours to share his cloudless day;
And when Affliction quench'd the ray,
When shifting Fortune frown'd austere,
And started in your eyes the tear,
You saw the manly Virtues rise,
The temper firm, the judgment wise;
And weeping, you with joy survey'd
In spite of Grief, each duty paid,
As Brother, Neighbour, Friend, or Man,
Awful enlarged the social plan.
You then beheld th' expanding Soul
Give strength and beauty to the whole.
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