Fictitious bonds, the bonds of wealth and law, Till time may come when, stripp'd of all her charms, The land of scholars, and the nurse of arms. Where noble stems transmit the patriot flame, Where kings have toil'd, and poets wrote for fame- 358 One sink of level avarice shall lie, And scholars, soldiers, kings, unhonor'd die. Yet think not, thus when freedom's ills I state, By proud contempt or favor's fostering sun Still may thy blooms the changeful clime endure ! I only would repress them to secure ; For just experience tells, in every soil, 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. Oh, then, how blind to all that truth requires, 380 But, when contending chiefs blockade the throne, To call it freedom when themselves are free Each wanton judge new penal statutes draw, Tear off reserve, and bare my swelling heart: Till half a patriot, half a coward grown, I fly from petty tyrants to the throne. Yes, brother! curse with me that baleful hour Gave wealth to sway the mind with double force. Seen all her triumphs but destruction haste, Like flaring tapers brightening as they waste? Seen opulence, her grandeur to maintain, Lead stern depopulation in her train E 402 And over fields where scatter'd hamlets rose, In barren, solitary pomp repose? Have we not seen, at pleasure's lordly call, Beheld the duteous son, the sire decay'd, The modest matron, and the blushing maid, Even now, perhaps, as there some pilgrim strays Through tangled forests, and through dangerous ways, Where beasts with man divided empire claim, And the brown Indian marks with murderous aim And all around distressful yells arise— 428 |