We the chief patron of the commonwealth,

You the regardless author of it's woes:
We for the sake of liberty a king,

You chains and bondage for a tyrant's sake.
Our love is principle, and has it's root
In reason, is judicious, manly, free;

Yours, a blind instinct, crouches to the rod,
And licks the foot, that treads it in the dust.
Were kingship as true treasure as it seems,
Sterling, and worthy of a wise man's wish,

I would not be a king to be belov'd

Causeless, and daub'd with undiscerning praise,

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Where love is mere attachment to the throne, 361

Not to the man, who fills it as he ought.

Whose freedom is by suff'rance, and at will

Of a superior, he is never free.

Who lives, and is not weary of a life

Expos'd to manacles, deserves them well.

The state that strives for liberty, though foil'd,

And forc'd to abandon what she bravely sought,

Deserves at least applause for her attempt,
And pity for her loss. But that's a cause
Not often unsuccessful; pow'r usurp'd

Is weakness when oppos'd: conscious of wrong, 'Tis pusillanimous and prone to flight.

370

But slaves, that once conceive the glowing thought

Of freedom, in that hope itself possess

All that the contest calls for; spirit, strength,

The scorn of danger, and united hearts;

The surest presage of the good they seek".

Then shame to manhood, and opprobrious more

To France than all her losses and defeats,

Old or of later date, by sea or land,

Her house of bondage, worse than that of old

380

The author hopes, that he shall not be censured for unnecessary warmth upon so interesting a subject. He is aware, that it is become almost fashionable, to stigmatize such sentiments as no better than empty declamation; but it is an ill symptom, and peculiar to modern times.

Which God aveng'd on Pharaoh-the Bastille.
Ye horrid tow'rs, the abode of broken hearts;
Ye dungeons, and ye cages of despair,

That monarchs have supplied from age to age
With music, such as suits their sovʼreign ears,
The sighs and groans of miserable men!

There's not an English heart, that would not leap,
To hear that ye were fall'n at last; to know,
That ev'n our enemies, so oft employ'd

In forging chains for us, themselves were free.

For he, who values Liberty, confines

His zeal for her predominance within

No narrow bounds; her cause engages him

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Wherever pleaded. "Tis the cause of man.
There dwell the most forlorn of humankind,
Immur'd though unaccus'd, condemn'd untried,
Cruelly spar'd, and hopeless of escape.
There, like the visionary emblem seen

By him of Babylon, life stands a stump,

And, filletted about with hoops of brass,

400

Still lives, though all his pleasant boughs are gone.

To count the hour-bell and expect no change;
And ever, as the sullen sound is heard,

Still to reflect, that, though a joyless note

To him, whose moments all have one dull pace, Ten thousand rovers in the World at large

Account it music; that it summons some

To theatre, or jocund feast, or ball:

The wearied hireling finds it a release

From labour; and the lover, who has chid

410

It's long delay, feels ev'ry welcome stroke
Upon his heart-strings, trembling with delight-
To fly for refuge from distracting thought
To such amusements, as ingenious wo
Contrives, hard-shifting, and without her tools-
To read engraven on the mouldy walls,

In stagg'ring types, his predecessor's tale,

A sad memorial, and subjoin his own-
To turn purveyor to an overgorg'd

And bloated spider, till the pamper'd pest

420

Is made familiar, watches his approach,

Comes at his call, and serves him for a friend

To wear out time in numb'ring to and fro

The studs, that thick emboss his iron door;
Then downward and then upward, then aslant
And then alternate; with a sickly hope

By dint of change to give his tasteless task

Some relish; till, the sum exactly found

In all directions, he begins again

Oh comfortless existence! hemm'd around

430

With woes, which who that suffers would not kneel

And beg for exile, or the pangs of death?

That man should thus encroach on fellow man,

Abridge him of his just and native rights,
Eradicate him, tear him from his hold
Upon th' endearments of domestic life

And social, nip his fruitfulness and use,
And doom him for perhaps a heedless word
To barrenness, and solitude, and tears,

Moves indignation; makes the name of king

440