Integrity in Office on my fons !
Inculcate common honour-not to rob-
And whom?-the gracious, the confiding hand,
That lavishly rewards; the toiling poor,
Whose cup with many a bitter drop is mixt;
The guardian public; every face they fee,
And every friend; nay, ineffect, themselves.
As in familiar life the villain's fate
Admits no cure; fo when a desperate age
At this arrives, I the devoted race
Indignant spurn, and hopeless foar away.
But, ah! too little known to modern times!
Be not the noblest paffion past unsung;
That ray peculiar, from unbounded Love
Effus'd, which kindles the heroic foul,
Devotion to the public. Glorious flame!
Celestial ardour! in what unknown worlds,
Profusely scatter'd thro' the blue immenfe,
Hast thou been blessing myriads, since in Rome,
Old virtuous Rome! so many deathless names
From Thee their lustre drew? since, taught by Thee
Their poverty put fplendour to the blush,
Pain grew luxurious, and even death delight?
O wilt thou ne'er, in thy long period, look,
With blaze direct, on this my last retreat?
'Tis not enough, from self-right understood 235
Reflected, that thy rays inflame the heart;
Tho' Virtue not difdains appeals to self,
Dreads not the trial, all her joys are true,
Nor is there any real joy save her's.
Far less the tepid, the declaiming race,
Foes to Corruption, to its wages friends,
Or those whom private passions, for a while,
Beneath My standard list, can they fuffice
To raise and fix the glory of My reign?
An active flood of univerfal love
Must swell the breast. First, in effusion wide,
The restless spirit roves creation round,
And seizes every being; stronger then
It tends to life, whate'er the kindred search
Of bliss allys; then, more collected still,
It urges human-kind: a passion grown,
At last, the central parent-public calls
Its utmost effort forth, awakes each sense,
The comely, grand, and tender. Without this,
This awful pant, shook from fublimer powers 255
Than those of Self, this heaven-infus'd delight,
This moral gravitation, rushing prone
To press the Public good, My system foon,
Traverse, to several felfish centres drawn,
Will reel to ruin, while for ever shut
Stand the bright portals of desponding Fame.
From fordid felf shoot up no shining deeds,
None of those ancient lights that gladden earth,
Give grace to being, and arouse the brave
To just ambition, Virtue's quickening fire;
Life tedious grows, an idly-bustling round,
Fill'd up with actions animal and mean,
A dull gazette! Th' impatient reader scorns
The poor historic page, till kindly comes
Oblivion, and redeems a people's shame.
Not so the times when, emulation-stung,
Greece shone in Genius, Science, and in Arts,
And Rome in virtues dreadful to be told!
To live was glory then! and charm'd mankind,
Thro' the deep periods of devolving time,
Those, raptur'd, copy; these, astonish'd, read.
True, a corrupted state, with every vice
And every meanness foul, this passion damps.
Who can, unshock'd, behold the cruel eye ?
The pale inveigling smile? the ruffian front ? 280
The wretch abandon'd to relentless Self,
Equally vile if miser or profufe?
Powers not of God, affiduous to corrupt?
The fell deputed tyrant, who devours
The poor and weak*, at distance from redress ? 285
Delirious Faction bellowing loud My name?
The false fair-feeming patriot's hollow boast?
A race refolv'd on bondage, fierce for chains,
My sacred rights a merchandise alone
Esteeming, and to work their feeder's will
* Lord Molefworth, in his account of Denmark, says, It is observed, that in limited monarchies and common-wealths, a neighbourhood to the feat of the government is advantageous to the subjects, whilft the diftant provinces are less thriving, and more liable to oppreffion.
By deeds, a horror to mankind, prepar'd,
As were the dregs of Romulus of old ?
Who these, indeed, can undetesting see?-
But who unpitying? To the generous eye
Distress is virtue; and, tho' felf-betray'd,
A people struggling with their fate must rouse
The hero's throb. Nor can a land, at once,
Be lost to virtue quite. How glorious, then!
Fit luxury for gods! to save the good,
Protect the feeble, dash bold Vice aside,
Depress the wicked, and restore the frail!
Posterity, besides, the young are pure,
And fons may tinge their father's cheek with shame.
Should, then, the times arrive (whichHeaven avert!)
That Britons bend unnerv'd, not by the force 305
Of arms, more generous, and more manly, quell'd,
But by Corruption's foul-dejecting arts,
Arts impudent! and gross! by their own gold,
In part bestow'd, to bribe them to give all:
With party raging, or immers'd in floth,
Should they Britannia's well-fought laurels yield
To flily-conquering Gaul, even from her brow
Let her own naval oak be basely torn,
By fuch as tremble at the stiffening gale,
And nerveless sink while others sing rejoic'd. 315 Or (darker profpect! scarce one gleam behind Disclosing) should the broad corruptive plague Breathe from the City to the furthest hut
That fits ferene within the forest-shade,
The fever'd people fire, inflame their wants,
And their luxurious thirst, so gathering ragé,
That, were a buyer found, they stand prepar'd
To fell their birthright for a cooling draught;
Should shameless pens for plain Corruption plead,
The hir'd affaffins of the Commonweal!
Deem'd the declaiming rant of Greece and Rome;
Should Public Virtue grow the public scoff,
Till Private, failing, staggers thro' the land;
Till round the City loose mechanic Want,
Dire-prowling nightly, makes the cheerful haunt
Of men more hideous than Numidian wilds,
Nor from its fury sleeps the vale in peace,
And murders, horrors, perjuries abound;
Nay, till to lowest deeds the highest stoop,
The rich, like starving wretches, thirst for gold, 335
And those on whom the vernal showers of Heaven
All-bounteous fall, and that prime lot bestow,
A power to live to Nature and themselves,
In fick attendance wear their anxious days,
With fortune joyless, and with honours mean. 340
Mean time, perhaps, profusion flows around,
The waste of war, without the works of peace;
No mark of millions in the gulf abforpt
Of uncreating Vice, none but the rage
Of rous'd Corruption still demanding more:
That very portion which (by faithful skill
Employ'd) might make the smiling public rear
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