At gold's fuperior charms all freedom flies-
The needy fell it, and the rich man buys;
A land of tyrants, and a den of slaves,
Here wretches feek dishonourable graves,
And calmly bent, to fervitude conform,
Dull as their lakes that flumber in the ftorm.
Heavens! how unlike their Belgic fires of old!
Rough, poor, content, ungovernably bold;
War in each breast, and freedom on each brow-
How much unlike the fons of Britain now!
Fir'd at the found, my genius fpreads her wing,
And flies where Britain courts the western spring;
Where lawns extend that scorn Arcadian pride,
And brighter ftreams than fam'd Hydaspis glide.
There all around the gentleft breezes ftray,
There gentle mufic melts on every spray;
Creation's mildest charms are there combin'd,
Extremes are only in the master's mind:
Stern o'er each bofom reason holds her state,
With daring aims irregularly great;
Pride in their port, defiance in their eye,
I fee the lords of human kind pass by,
Intent on high defigns, a thoughtful band,
By forms unfashion'd, fresh from Nature's hand;
Fierce in their native hardinefs of foul,
True to imagin'd right, above controul-
While ev❜n the peasant boasts these rights to scan,
And learns to venerate himself as man.
Thine, Freedom, thine the bleffings pictur'd here, Thine are those charms that dazzle and endear: Too bleft, indeed, were fuch without alloy,
But, fofter'd ev'n by freedom, ills annoy—
That independence Britons prize too high,
Keeps man from man, and breaks the focial tie;
The felf-dependent lordlings stand alone,
All claims that bind and sweeten life, unknown:
Here, by the bonds of nature feebly held,
Minds combat minds, repelling and repell'd;
Ferments arife, imprison'd factions roar,
Reprefs'd ambition struggles round her fhore-
Till, over-wrought, the general system feels
Its motions ftop, or phrenzy fire the wheels.
Nor this the worft: As Nature's ties decay,
As duty, love, and honour, fail to sway,
Fictitious bonds-the bonds of wealth and law-
Still gather ftrength, and force unwilling awe.
Hence, all obedience bows to these alone,
And talent finks, and merit weeps unknown;
Till time may come, when, ftript of all her charms,
The land of scholars, and the nurse of arms,
Where noble stems tranfmit the patriot flame, Where kings have toil'd, and poets wrote for fame, One fink of level avarice shall lie,
And scholars, foldiers, kings, unhonour'd die!
Yet think not, thus when freedom's ills I ftate, I mean to flatter kings, or court the great; Ye pow'rs of truth, that bid my foul aspire, Far from my bosom drive the low defire! And thou, fair Freedom, taught alike to feel The rabble's rage and tyrant's angry steel; Thou tranfitory flow'r, alike undone By proud contempt, or favour's fostering fun, Still may thy blooms the changeful clime endure, I only would reprefs them-to fecure;
For juft experience tells in every foil,
That those who think must govern those that toil,
And all that freedom's highest aims can reach,
Is but to lay proportion'd loads on each;
Hence, should one order difproportion'd grow,
Its double weight must ruin all below.
O then, how blind to all that truth requires,
Who think it freedom when a part aspires!
Calm is my foul, nor apt to rife in arms,
Except when faft approaching danger warms;
But when contending chiefs blockade the throne,
Contracting regal power to stretch their own;
When I behold a factious band agree
To call it freedom when themselves are free;
Each wanton judge new penal statutes draw,
Laws grind the poor, and rich men rule the law;
The wealth of climes, where favage nations roam,
Pillag'd from flaves to purchase slaves at home—
Fear, pity, juftice, indignation start,
Tear off referve, and bare my fwelling heart;
Till half a patriot, half a coward grown,
I fly from petty tyrants to the throne.
Yes, brother, curfe with me that baleful hour,
When first ambition struck at regal power;
And, thus polluting honour in its source,
Gave wealth to fway the mind with double force.
Have we not feen, round Britain's peopled shore,
Her useful fons exchang'd for useless ore!
Seen all her triumphs but destruction haste,
Like flaring tapers bright'ning as they wafte;
Seen opulence, her grandeur to maintain,
Lead ftern depopulation in her train,
And, over fields where scatter'd hamlets rofe,
In barren folitary pomp repofe!
Have we not feen, at pleasure's lordly call,
The fmiling long-frequented village fall!
Beheld the duteous son, the fire decay'd,
The modeft matron, and the blushing maid,
Forc'd from their homes-a melancholy train―
To traverse climes beyond the western main,
Where wild Ofwego fpreads her fwamps around,
And Niagara ftuns with thund'ring found!
Ev'n now, perhaps, as there fome pilgrim strays
Thro' tangled forefts, and thro' dang'rous ways,
Where beafts with man divided empire claim,
And the brown Indian marks with murd'rous aim;
There, while above the giddy tempeft flies,
And all around distressful yells arise,
The penfive exile, bending with his woe,
To stop too fearful, and too faint to go,
Cafts a fond look where England's glories fhine,
And bids his bosom sympathize with mine!
Vain, very vain, my weary fearch to find
That blifs which only centers in the mind:
Why have I ftray'd from pleafure and repofe,
To feek a good each government bestows?
In every government, though terrors reign,
Though tyrant kings, or tyrant laws restrain,
How finall of all that human hearts endure,
That part which laws or kings can cause or cure!
Still to ourselves, in every place confign'd,
Our own felicity we make or find;
With fecret course, which no loud ftorms annoy,
Glides the smooth current of domestic joy:
The lifted axe, the agonizing wheel,
Luke's iron crown, and Damien's bed of fteel,
To men remote from pow'r but rarely known,
Leave reafon, faith, and confcience, all our own.
"As in thofe domes, where Cæfars once bore sway,
"Defac'd by time and tottering in decay,
"There in the ruin, heedlefs of the dead,
"The shelter-feeking peafant builds his fhed,
"And, wondering man could want the larger pile,
"Exults, and owns his cottage with a smile."
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