But let eternal infamy pursue The wretch to naught but his ambition true, 30 30 35 40 45 A. 'Tis your belief the world was made for man; Kings do but reason on the self-same plan : Maintaining yours, you cannot theirs condemn, Who think, or seem to think, man made for them. 50 B. Seldom, alas! the power of logick reigns, With much sufficiency in royal brains; Such reas'ning falls like an inverted cone, Wanting its proper base to stand upon. Man made for kings! those opticks are but dim, That tell you so-say, rather, they for him. That were indeed a king-ennobling thought, 55 Could they, or would they, reason as they ought. 60 Is worth, with all its gold and glitt'ring store, Just what the toy will sell for, and no more. 65 To see a band call'd patriot for no cause, 145 150 By diving into cabinet intrigue; (For what kings deem'd a toil, as well they may, 155 To him is relaxation and mere play,) To win no praise, when well-wrought plans prevail, But to be rudely censur'd when they fail; To doubt the love his fav'rites may pretend, 160 If he indulge a cultivated taste, His gall'ries with the works of art well grac'd, dwelt On situations that they never folt, And prate and preach about what others prove, As if the world and they were hand and glove. 165 170 They have their weight to carry, subjects theirs; 175 Poets, of all men, ever least regret Increasing taxes, and the nation's debt. Could you contrive the payment, and rehearse The mighty plan, oracular in verse, No bard, howe'er majestick, old or new, 180 185 A. Vouchsafe, at least, to pitch the key of rhyme 190 Patriots, who love good places at their hearts; When admirals extoll'd for standing still, Or doing nothing with a deal of skill; Gen'rals who will not conquer when they may, Firm friends to peace, to pleasure, and good pay; 195 When Freedom, wounded almost to despair, Though Discontent alone can find out where; When themes like these emplcy the poet's tongue, Or tell me, if you can, what pow'r maintains A Briton's scorn of arbitrary chains? 200 That were a theme might animate the dead, And move the lips of poets cast in lead. B. The cause, tho' worth the search, may yet elude Conjecture and remark, however shrewd. 205 They take perhaps a well-directed aim, Who seck it in his climate and his frame. Lib'ral in all things else, yet Nature here 210 215 His form robust and of elastick tone, 220 A mind well lodg'd, and masculine of course. He bears it with meek manliness of soul; 225 To him that treads upon his free-born toe ; One step beyond the bound'ry of the laws Fires him at once in Freedom's glorious cause. Thus proud prerogative, not much rever'd, 230 Is seldom felt, though sometimes seen and heard; And in his cage, like parrot fine and gay, Is kept to strut, look big, and talk away. Not form'd like us, with such Herculean powr's, 235 The Frenchman, easy, debonair, and brisk, Give him his lass, his fiddle, and his frisk, Is always happy, reign whoever may, And laughs the sense of mis'ry far away. He drinks his simple bev'rage with a gust; 240 And, feasting on an onion and a crust, We never feel the alacrity and joy With which he shouts and carols Vive le Roi ! 245 Fill'd with as much true merriment and glee, 250 He can encourage slav'ry to a smile, And fill with discontent a British isle. A. Freeman and slave, then, if the case be such, Stand on a level; and you prove too much : 255 2 * If all men indiscriminately share His fost'ring power, and tutelary care, B. No. Freedom has a thousand charms to show, 260 That slaves, howe'er contented, never know. The mind attains beneath her happy reign The growth, that Nature meant she should attain ; 265 She ventures onward with a prosp'rous force, While no base fear impedes her in her course. Stands most reveal'd before the freeman's eyes; No shades of superstition blot the day, 270 Liberty chases all that gloom away; The soul emancipated, unoppress'd, Free to prove all things, and hold fast the best, Learns much; and to a thousand list'ning minds 275 peace, Communicates with joy the good she finds; 280 285 290 Lost without thee th' ennobling pow'rs of verse; Heroick song from thy free touch acquires |