The private to the public guilt keeps pace ;Gold, the first object deem'd, and penury The greatest shame. Tho' fraud, tho' rapine raise To wealth, by all its owner is caress'd. Whilst poverty doth genius, beauty hide, And renders all perfection void. 'Tis wealth Our people worship. To wealth all classes, Both rich and poor, now bend the suppliant knee. When proud Nebuchadnezzar once set up The golden image for his people's god, The fiery furnace to obedience forc'd ;But here with zeal unbounded all adore; And prostrate to their darling idol fall. Hence, gaming reigns triumphant o'er the land, Detested source of almost every vice! For it the wretched wife neglected lives- For it, the love of country is withdrawn, Instead of gentle love-connubial love- The feelings of her breast? Ask of the youth, What is the crime that thrives not in this land? GOD's holy name blasphem'd, and sacred oaths A mock'ry made. Envy and calumnyLying and falsehood-all the little arts Of low ambition prosper here. Our youth Dissimulation taught, as the best path To fame and honour-whilst ambition, true, With singleness of heart, is found no more. Say, then, what virtues are to those oppos'd? No virtues, but their semblance. Manners new— Civility and formal words-mere sounds :-- A thing call'd honour, takes religion's place(True honour and religion are the same,) This honour in the sword and pistol lies. If wife, or sister, or a daughter fall To base design a prey-the villain, who Has practis❜d on their guileless hearts, and there That rends their peace for ever,-let him draw On what's call'd honours field- then, then, indeed, The gamester makes th'unwary feel his skill, Ah, murder black! he's honourable deem'd. L No vice-no villainy-its name retains, ཡ No doubt, in every clime, there are a few Who practice Virtue and who rev'rence Truth :And stand exceptions-living-bright and fair :— Yet who can doubt the fulness of these times ? Behold, Messiah comes! But, stop, my muse Whilst I, in silent pray'r, address the throne Of pow'r Omnipotent. Haply, one ray Of Light Divine, may brighten this my song. END OF THE FIRST BOOK BOOK II. THE awful day's with darkness overcast, The earth's suspended from its wonted course. The Sun witholds its light-and the huge clouds With torrents big, another deluge pour. The flame fork'd lightning darts from Pole to PoleWhilst the loud thunder, upon thunder heap'd, Peal after peal,-in long succession roars ;(7) Proclaiming to the world-THE LIVING GOD. When mighty monarchs earthly thrones ascend, The paltry noise of cannon notice gives To all the subjects of his state-and there The noisy tidings end-not even heard Beyond the narrow limits of the place, Where the poor pageant of the day's perform'd. But here the firmament doth to the earth Re-echo earth to its unfathom'd depths— |