And calmly bent to fervitude conform, Dull as their lakes that lumber in the form. Heav'ns! how unlike their Belgic fires of old! Rough, poor, content, ungovernably bold; War in each breast, and freedom on each brow; 315 How much unlike the fons of Britain now! Fir'd at the found my genius fpreads her wing, And flies where Britain courts the western spring; Where lawns extend that fcorn Arcadian pride, And brighter fireams than fam'd Hydafpis glide, 320 There all around the gentleft breezes ftray, There gentle mufic melts on ev'ry spray; Creation's mildest charms are there combin'd, Extremes are only in the mafter's mind! Stern o'er each bofom reafon holds her state 325 With daring aims irregularly great, Pride in their port, defiance in their eye, Intent on high defigns, a thoughtful band, By forms unfashion'd fresh from Nature's hand; 330 Fierce in their native hardiness of foul, True to imagin'd right, above controul, While ev'n the peafant boafts these rights to fcan, Thine, Freedom, thine the bleffings pictur'd here, 335 Keeps man from man, and breaks the focial tie; 340 The self-dependent lordlings ftand alone, All claims that bind and sweeten life unknown; Here by the bonds of nature feebly held, 345 350 Nor this the worft. As nature's ties decay, As duty, love, and honour fail to fway, Fictitious bonds, the bonds of wealth and law, Still gather ftrength, and force unwilling awe. Hence all obedience bows to these alone, And talent finks, and merit weeps unknown ; Till time may come, when ftript of all her charms, 355 The land of fcholars, and the nurse of arms, Where noble stems tranfmit the patriot flame, Where kings have toil'd, and poets wrote for fame, One fink of level avarice fhall lie, And scholars, foldiers, kings, unhonour'd die. Yet think not, thus when Freedom's ills I state, ; I mean to flatter kings, or court the great; That those who think muft govern thofe that toil Hence, fhould one order difproportion'd grow, 375 O then how blind to all that truth requires, 380 To call it freedom when themselves are free ; Tear off referve, and bear my fwelling heart; I fly from petty tyrants to the throne. Yes, brother, curfe with me that baleful hour, ; 385 390 395 400 405 Behold the duteous fon, the fire decay'd, 410 415 Ev'n now, perhaps, as there fome pilgrim ftrays, Through tangled forefts, and through dang'rous ways; Where beafts with man divided empire claim, And the brown Indian marks with murd'rous aim There, while above the giddy tempest flies, And all around distressful yells arife, ; The penfive exile, bending with his woe, 420 Vain, very vain, my weary fearch to find 425 That part which laws or kings can cause or cure? 430 Still to ourselves in ev'ry place confign'd, Our own felicity we make or find: With fecret course, which no loud ftorms annoy, Glides the fmooth current of domestic joy. The lifted axe, the agonizing wheel, 435 Luke's iron crown, and Damien's bed of steel, To men remote from pow'r but rarely known, |