Till rose a king with potent charm
His foes by goodness to disarm;
Whom ev'ry Scot and Jacobite
Straight fell in love with-at first sight;
Whose gracious speech, with aid of pensions,
Hush'd down all murmurs of dissensions,
And with the sound of potent metal,
Brought all their blust'ring swarms to settle;
Who rain'd his ministerial mannas,
Till loud Sedition sung hosannas;
The good lords-bishops and the kirk
United in the public work;
Rebellion from the northern regions,
With Bute and Mansfield swore allegiance,
And all combined to raze, as nuisance,
Of church and state, the constitutions;
Pull down the empire, on whose ruins
They meant to edify their new ones;
Enslave the Amer'can wildernesses,
And tear the provinces in pieces.
For these our squire, among the valient'st,
Employ'd his time, and tools, and talents;
And in their cause, with manly zeal,
Used his first virtue to rebel;
And found this new rebellion pleasing
As his old king-destroying treason.
Nor less avail'd his optic sleight,
And Scottish gift of second-sight.
No ancient sibyl famed in rhyme,
Saw deeper in the womb of time;
No block in old Dodona's grove
Could ever more orac'lar prove.
Nor only saw he all that was,
But much that never came to pass;
Whereby all prophets far outwent he,
Though former days produced a plenty :
For any man with half an eye,
What stands before him may espy;
But optics sharp it needs, I ween,
To see what is not to be seen.
As in the days of ancient fame,
Prophets and poets were the same,
And all the praise that poets gain
Is but for what th' invent and feign:
So gain'd our squire his fame by seeing
Such things as never would have being.
Whence he for oracles was grown
The very tripod of his town.
Gazettes no sooner rose a lie in,
But straight he fell to prophesying;
Made dreadful slaughter in his course,
O'erthrew provincials, foot and horse;
Brought armies o'er by sudder pressings
Of Hanoverians, Swiss, and Hessians;
Feasted with blood his Scottish clan,
And hang'd all rebels to a man;
Divided their estates and pelf,
And took a goodly share himself.*
All this with spirit energetic,
He did by second-sight prophetic.
Thus stored with intellectual riches,
Skill'd was our squire in making speeches,
Where strength of brains united centres
With strength of lungs surpassing Stentor's.
But as some muskets so contrive it,
As oft to miss the mark they drive at,
And, though well aim'd at duck or plover,
Bear wide and kick their owners over :
So fared our squire, whose reas'ning toil
Would often on himself recoil,
* This prophecy, like some of the prayers of Homer's heroes, was but half accomplished. The Hanoverians, &c., indeed came over, and much were they feasted with blood; but the hanging of the rebels and the dividing their estates remain unfulfilled. This, however, cannot be the fault of our hero, but rather the British minister, who left off the war before the work was completed.
And so much injured more his side,
The stronger arg'ments he applied;
As old war-elephants, dismay'd,
Trod down the troops they came to aid,
And hurt their own side more in battle
Than less and ordinary cattle:
Yet at town meetings ev'ry chief
Pinn'd faith on great M'Fingal's sleeve,
And, as he motioned all by rote,
Raised sympathetic hands to vote.
The town, our hero's scene of action,
Had long been torn by feuds of faction;
And as each party's strength prevails,
It turn'd up diff'rent heads or tails;
With constant rattling, in a trice
Show'd various sides, as oft as dice:
As that famed weaver, wife t' Ulysses,
By night each day's work pick'd in pieces;
And though she stoutly did bestir her,
Its finishing was ne'er the nearer :
So did this town with steadfast zeal,
Weave cobwebs for the public weal,
Which, when completed, or before,
A second vote in pieces tore.
They met, made speeches full long-winded,
Resolved, protested, and rescinded;
Addresses sign'd, then chose committees,
To stop all drinking of Bohea-teas;
With winds of doctrine veer'd about,
And turn'd all Whig committees out.
Meanwhile our hero, as their head,
In pomp the Tory faction led,
Still following, as the squire should please,
Successive on. like files of geese.
INEFFICACY OF PUNISHMENTS.
WITH stronger force than fear temptations draw, And cunning thinks to parry with the law. "My brother swung, poor novice in his art, He blindly stumbled on a hangman's cart; But wiser I, assuming every shape, As Proteus erst, am certain to escape." The knave, thus jeering, on his skill relies, For never villain deemed himself unwise. [wide, When earth convulsive heaved, and, yawning Ingulfed in darkness Lisbon's spiry pride, At that dread hour of ruin and dismay "Tis famed the harden'd felon prowled for prey; Nor trembling earth nor thunders could restrain His daring feet, which trod the sinking fane; Whence, while the fabric to its centre shook, By impious stealth the hallowed vase he took. What time the gaping, vulgar throng to see The wretch expire on Tyburn's fatal tree, Fast by the crowd the luckier villain clings, And pilfers while the hapless culprit swings.
ANCIENT AND MODERN LITERATURE.
WHEN Truth in classic majesty appear'd, And Greece on high the dome of Science rear'd, Patience and Perseverance, Care and Pain, Alone the steep, the rough ascent could gain : None but the great the sun-clad summit found; The weak were baffled, and the strong were crown'd. The tardy transcript's high-wrought page confined To one pursuit the undivided mind.
No venal critic fattened on the trade,
Books for delight, and not for sale were made;
Then shone superior in the realms of thought,
The chief who govern'd, and the sage who taught;
The drama then with deathless bays was wreath'd,
The statue quicken'd, and the canvass breathed.
The poet, then, with unresisted art,
Sway'd every impulse of the captive heart.
Touch'd with a beam of Heaven's creative mind,
His spirit kindled, and his taste refined:
Incessant toil inform'd his rising youth;
Thought grew to thought, and truth attracted truth,
Till, all complete, his perfect soul display'd
Some bloom of genius that could never fade.
So the sage oak, to Nature's mandate true,
Advanced but slow, and strengthen'd as he grew!
But when at length (full many a season o'er)
His head the blossoms of high promise bore;
When steadfast were his roots, and sound his heart,
He bade oblivion and decay depart;
And, storm and time defying, still remains
The never-dying glory of the plains.
Then, if some thoughtless Bavius dared appear,
Short was his date, and limited his sphere;
He could but please the changeling mob a day,
Then, like his noxious labours, pass away:
So, near a forest tall, some worthless flower
Enjoys the triumphs of its gaudy hour,
Scatters its little poison through the skies,
Then droops its empty, hated head, and dies.
Still, as from famed Ilyssus' classic shore, To Mincius' banks the Muse her laurel bore, The sacred plant to hands divine was given, And deathless Maro nursed the boon of Heaven. Exalted bard! to hear thy gentler voice, The valleys listen, and their swains rejoice; But when, on some wild mountain's awful form, We hear thy spirit chanting to the storm,
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