Awaiting Me, fhe stood; with hope inflam'd,
By My mixt spirit burning in her fons,
To firm, to polish, and exalt the state.
The native Genii round her radiant fmil'd.
Courage, of foft deportment, afpect calm,
Unboastful, fuffering long, and, till provok'd,
As mild and harmless as the sporting child;
But, on just reason, once his fury rous'd,
No lion springs more eager to his prey:
Blood is a pastime! and his heart, elate,
Knows no depreffing fear. That Virtue known
By the relenting look, whose equal heart
For others feels, as for another self:
Of various name, as various objects wake,
Warm into action the kind fenfe within;
Whether the blameless poor, the nobly maim'd,
The loft to reason, the declin'd in life,
The helpless young that kiss no mother's hand,
And the gray fecond infancy of age,
She gives in public families to live,
A fight to gladden Heaven! whether she stands
Fair beck'ning at the hofpitable gate,
And bids the stranger take repose and joy;
Whether, to folace honest labour, the
Rejoices those that make the land rejoice;
Or whether to Philosophy and Arts
(At once the basis and the finish'd pride
Of government and life) she spreads her hand,
Nor knows her gift profufe, nor feems to know,
Doubling her bounty, that she gives at all.
Juftice to thefe her awful prefence join'd,
The mother of the ftate! No low revenge,
No turbid paffions in her breaft ferment;
Tender, ferene, compaffionate of vice,
As the last woe that can afflict mankind,
She punishment awards; yet of the good
More piteous ftill, and of the suffering whole,
Awards it firm. So fair her juft decree,
That, in his judging peers, each on himself
Pronounces his own doom. O happy land!
Where reigns alone this juftice of the Free!
'Mid the bright group Sincerity his front,
Diffufive, rear'd; his pure untroubled eye,
The fount of truth. The thoughtful Power, apart,
Now. penfive, cast on earth his fix'd regard,
Now, touch'd celestial, launch'd it on the sky.
The Genius he whence Britain fhines fupreme,
The land of light, and rectitude of mind.
He, too, the fire of Fancy feeds intense,
With all the train of paffions thence deriv'd; 525
Not kindling quick, a noify tranfient blaze,
But gradual, filent, lafting, and profound.
Near him Retirement, pointing to the shade,
And Independence, stood: the generous pair
That fimple life, the quiet-whifpering grove,
And the ftill raptures of the free-born foul,
To cates prefer by Virtue bought, not earn'd;
Proudly prefer them to the fervile pomp,
And to the heart-embitter'd joys, of flaves.
Or fhould the latter, to the public scene
Demanded, quit his sylvan friend a while,
Nought can his firmnefs shake, nothing seduce
His zeal, fill active for the common-weal;
Nor ftormy tyrants, nor Corruption's tools,
Foul minifters, dark-working by the force
Of fecret-fapping gold. All their vile arts,
Their fhameful honours, their perfidious gifts,
He greatly fcorns, and if he must betray
His plunder'd country, or his power refign,
A moment's parley were eternal fhame :
Illuftrious into private life again,
From dirty levees he unftain'd afcends,
And firm in fenates ftands the patriot's ground,
Or draws new vigour in the peaceful shade.
Aloof the bafhful Virtue hover'd coy,
Proving by fweet diftruft diftrufted worth:
Rough Labour clos'd the train; and in his hand
Rude, callous, finew-fwell'd, and black with toil,
Came manly Indignation. Sour he seems,
And more than seems, by lawless pride affail'd; 555
Yet kind at heart, and juft, and generous, there
No vengeance lurks, no pale infidious gall:
Even in the very luxury of rage,
He, soft'ning, can forgive a gallant foe;
Volume II.
The nerve, fupport, and glory of the land!
Nor be Religion, rational and free,
Here pafs'd in filence, whofe enraptur'd eye
Sees heaven with earth connected, human things
Link'd to divine; who not from fervile fear,
By rites for fome weak tyrant incenfe fit,
The God of Love adores, but from a heart
Effufing gladness, into pleafing awe
That now astonish'd fwells, now in a calm
Of fearless confidence that fmiles ferene ;
That lives devotion, one continual hymn,
And then most grateful, when Heaven's bounty most
Is right enjoy'd. This ever-cheerful Power
O'er the rais'd circle ray'd fuperior day.
I joy'd to join the Virtues whence My reign
O'er Albion was to rife. Each cheering each, 575
And, like the circling planets from the fun,
All borrowing beams from Me, a heighten'd zeal
Impatient fir'd us to commence our toils,
Or pleafures rather. Long the pungent time
Pafs'd not in mutual hails, but thro' the land 580
Darting our light, we fhone the fogs away.
The Virtues conquer with a single look.
Such grace, fuch beauty, fuch victorious light,
Live in their prefence, ftream in every glance,
That the foul won, enamour'd, and refin'd,
Grows their own image, pure ethereal flame.
Hence the foul Demons, that oppose our reign.
Would still from us deluded mortals wrap,
Or in grofs fhades they drown the visual ray,
Or by the fogs of Prejudice, where mix
Falsehood and Truth confounded, foil the sense
With vain refracted images of bliss.
But chief around the court of flatter'd kings
They roll the dusky rampart, wall o'er wall
Of darkness pile, and with their thickest shade 595
Secure the throne. No favage Alp, the den
Of wolves, and bears, and monftrous things obfcene,
That vex the fwain and waste the country round,
Protected lies beneath a deeper cloud :
Yet there We fometimes send a searching ray: 600
As at the facred opening of the morn
The prowling race retire, so, pierc'd fevere,
Before our potent blaze these Demons fly,
And all their works diffolve.-The whispered Tale
That like the fabling Nile, no fountain knows; 605
Fair-fac'd Deceit, whofe wily conscious eye
Ne'er looks direct; the Tongue that licks the dust,
But, when it fafely dares, as prompt to sting ;
Smooth crocodile Destruction, whofe fell tears
Enfnare; the Janus face of courtly Pride,
One to fuperiors heaves fubmiffive eyes,
On hapless Worth the other scowls difdain;
Cheeks that for some weak tenderness, alone,
Some virtuous flip, can wear a blush; the Laugh
Profane, when midnight bowls difclofe the heart,
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