Then thine it is, to whom belong In thee, vast All! are these contain❜d, For thee are those, thy parts ordain'd, So nature's systems roll: The sceptre's thine, if such there be; If none there is, then thou art free, Great monarch! mighty whole! Let the proud tyrant rest his cause His voice affirms thy stronger due, Unsanctified by thy command, Thy will's thy rule, thy good its end; You punish only to defend What parent nature gave: And he who dares her gifts invade, By nature's oldest law is made Thy victim or thy slave. Thus reason founds the just degree Not private rights resign'd: Through various nature's wide extent, Thee justice guides, thee right maintains, Thy warmest passions soon subside, Each instance of thy vengeful rage, But thine has been imputed blame, Avails it thee, if one devours, Or lesser spoilers share his pow'rs, While both thy claim oppose? Monsters who wore thy sullied crown, Tyrants who pull'd those monsters down, Far other shone fair Freedom's hand, When Hampden fought for thee: Of arts and industry. On thee yet foams the preacher's rage, On thee fierce frowns th' historian's A false apostate train: page, Tears stream adown the martyr's tomb; Thy thousands strow the plain. These had no charms to please the sense, Thy foes, a frontless band, invade; And yield up half the right. Ev'n Locke beams forth a mingled ray, On man's too feeble sight. Hence are the motley systems fram'd, Wise nature mocks the wrangling herd; While law the royal agent moves, But change, or cease th' inspiring choice, Shall then the wretch, whose dastard heart Shrinks at a tyrant's nobler part, And only dares betray; With reptile wiles, alas! prevail, Where force, and rage, and priestcraft fail, To pilfer pow'r away? O! shall the bought, and buying tribe, So Indian murd'rers hope to gain The pow'rs and virtues of the slain, "Avert it, heav'n! you love the brave, "You hate the treach'rous, willing slave, "The self-devoted head. "Nor shall an hireling's voice convey "That sacred prize to lawless sway, "For which a nation bled." Vain pray'r, the coward's weak resource! But ne'er shall flame the thund'ring sky, In names there dwell no magic charms, Unloos'd our fathers' band: Say, Greece and Rome! if these should fail, What names, what ancestors avail, To save a sinking land? Far, far from us such ills shall be, Whose title speaks a people's choice, |