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This narrow valley and the song

Of its small murmuring rivulet,
The flitting to and fro of birds,
Tranquil and tame as they were once
In Eden ere the startling words

Of Man disturbed their orisons,
Those little, shadowy paths that wind
Up the hill-side, with fruit-trees lined
And lighted only by the breaks
The gay wind in the foliage makes,
Or vistas here and there that ope

Thro' weeping willows, like the snatches

Of far-off scenes of light, which Hope Even thro' the shade of sadness catches!

All this, which could I once but lose
The memory of those vulgar ties
Whose grossness all the heavenliest hues
Of Genius can no more disguise
Than the sun's beams can do away
The filth of fens o'er which they play —
This scene which would have filled my
heart

With thoughts of all that happiest is;-
Of Love where self hath only part,
As echoing back another's bliss;
Of solitude secure and sweet,
Beneath whose shade the Virtues meet.
Which while it shelters never chills

Our sympathies with human woe,
But keeps them like sequestered rills
Purer and fresher in their flow;
Of happy days that share their beams

'Twixt quiet mirth and wise employ; Of tranquil nights that give in dreams

The moonlight of the morning's joy! All this my heart could dwell on here, But for those gross mementoes near; Those sullying truths that cross the track Of each sweet thought and drive them back

Full into all the mire and strife

And vanities of that man's life, Who more than all that e'er have glowed

With Fancy's flame (and it was his, In fullest warmth and radiance) showed What an impostor Genius is; How with that strong, mimetic art

Which forms its life and soul, it takes All shapes of thought, all hues of heart, Nor feels itself one throb it wakes;

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How all in short that makes the boast Of their false tongues they want the most;

And while with freedom on their lips,

Sounding their timbrels, to set free This bright world, laboring in the eclipse Of priestcraft and of slavery, They may themselves be slaves as low As ever Lord or Patron made To blossom in his smile or grow

Like stunted brushwood in his shade. Out on the craft! I'd rather be

One of those hinds that round me tread, With just enough of sense to see

The noonday sun that 's o'er his head, Than thus with high-built genius curst,

That hath no heart for its foundation, Be all at once that 's brightest, worst, Sublimest, meanest in creation!

CORRUPTION,

AND

INTOLERANCE.

TWO POEMS.

ADDRESSED TO AN ENGLISHMAN BY AN IRISHMAN

PREFACE.

THE practice which has been lately introduced into literature, of writing very long notes upon very indifferent verses, appears to me a rather happy invention, as it supplies us with a mode of turning dull poetry to account; and as horses too heavy for the saddle may yet serve well enough to draw lumber, so Poems of this kind make excellent beasts of burden and will bear notes though they may not bear reading. Besides, the comments in such cases are so little under the necessity of paying any servile deference to the text, that they may even adopt that Socratic dogma, “quod supra nos nihil ad nos."

In the first of the two following Poems, I have ventured to speak of the Revolution of 1688, in language which has sometimes been employed by Tory writers and which is therefore neither very new nor popular. But however an Englishman might be reproached with ingratitude for depreciating the merits and results of a measure which he is taught to regard as the source of his liberties - however ungrateful it might appear in Alderman Birch to question for a moment the purity of that glorious era to which he is indebted for the seasoning of so many orations yet an Irishman who has none of these obligations to acknowledge, to whose country the Revolution brought nothing but injury and insult, and who recollects that the book of Molyneux was burned by order of William's Whig Parliament for daring to extend to unfortunate Ireland those principles on which the Revolution was professedly founded — an Irishman may be allowed to criticise freely the measures of that period without exposing himself either to the imputation of ingratitude or to the suspicion of being influenced by any Popish remains of Jacobitism. No nation, it is true, was ever blessed with a more golden opportunity of establishing and securing its liberties for ever than the conjuncture of Eighty-eight presented to the people of Great Britain. But the disgraceful reigns of Charles and James had weakened and degraded the national character. The

bold notions of popular right which had arisen out of the struggles between Charles the First and his Parliament were gradually supplanted by those slavish doctrines for which Lord Hawkesbury eulogizes the churchmen of that period, and as the Reformation had happened too soon for the purity of religion, so the Revolution came too late for the spirit of liberty. Its advantages accordingly were for the most part specious and transitory, while the evils which it entailed are still felt and still increasing. By rendering unnecessary the frequent exercise of Prerogative, that unwieldy power which cannot move a step without alarm, it diminished the only interference of the Crown, which is singly and independently exposed before the people, and whose abuses therefore are obvious to their senses and capacities. Like the myrtle over a celebrated statue in Minerva's temple at Athens, skilfully veiled from the public eye the only obtrusive feature of royalty. At the same time, however, that the Revolution abridged this unpopular attribute, it amply compensated by the substitution of a new power, as much more potent in its effect as it is more secret in its operations. In the disposal of an immense revenue and the extensive patronage annexed to it, the first foundations of this power of the Crown were laid; the innovation of a standing army at once increased and strengthened it, and the few slight barriers which the Act of Settlement opposed to its progress have all been gradually removed during the Whiggish reigns that succeeded; till at length this spirit of influence has become the vital principle of the state, -an agency, subtle and unseen, which pervades every part of the Constitution, lurks under all its forms and regulates all its movements, and, like the invisible sylph or grace which presides over the motions of beauty,

"illam, quicquid agit, quoquo vestigia flectit,
componit furtim subsequiturque.'

The cause of Liberty and the Revolution are so habitually associated in the minds of Englishmen that probably in objecting to the latter I may be thought hostile or indifferent to the former. But assuredly nothing could be more unjust than such a suspicion. The very object indeed which my humble animadversions would attain is that in the crisis to which I think England is now hastening, and between which and foreign subjugation she may soon be compelled to choose, the errors and omissions of 1688 should be remedied; and, as it was then her fate to experience a Revolution without Reform, so she may now endeavor to accomplish a Reform without Revolution.

In speaking of the parties which have so long agitated England, it will be observed that I lean as little to the Whigs as to their adversaries. Both factions have been equally cruel to Ireland and perhaps equally insincere in their efforts for the liberties of England. There is one name indeed connected with Whiggism, of which I can never think but with veneration and tenderness. As justly, however, might the light of the sun be claimed by any particular nation as the sanction of that name be monopolized by any party whatsoever. Mr. Fox belonged to mankind and they have lost in him their ablest friend.

With respect to the few lines upon Intolerance, which I have subjoined, they are but the imperfect beginning of a long series of Essays with which I here menace my readers upon the same important subject. I shall look to no higher merit in the task than that of giving a new form to claims and remonstrances which have often been much more eloquently urged and which would long ere now have produced their effect, but that the minds of some of our statesmen, like the pupil of the human eye, contract themselves the more, the stronger light there is shed upon them.

CORRUPTION,

AN EPISTLE.

νῦν δ ̓ ἅπανθ' ὥσπερ ἐξ ἀγορᾶς ἐκπέπραται ταῦτα· ἀντείσηκται δὲ ἀντὶ τούτων, ὑφ ̓ ὧν ἀπόλωλε καὶ νενόσηκεν ἡ ̔Ελλάς. ταῦτα δ' ἐστὶ τί ; ζῆλος, εἴ τις εἴληφέ τι· γέλως ἂν ὁμολογῇ· συγγνώμη τοῖς ἐλεγχομένοις· μίσος, ἄν τούτοις, τις ἐπιτιμᾷ τἄλλα πάνθ, ὅσα ἐκ τοῦ δωροδοκεῖν ήρτηται. DEMOSTH. Philipp. iii.

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Outlives even Whitelocke's sword and
Hawkesbury's tongue!

Boast on, my friend, while in this hum-
bled isle 2

Where Honor mourns and Freedom fears to smile,

Where the bright light of England's fame is known

But by the shadow o'er our fortunes thrown;

Where, doomed ourselves to naught but wrongs and slights,

1 Angli suos ac sua omnia impense mirantur; cæteras nationes despectui habent.-Barclay (as quoted in one of Dryden's prefaces).

"The

2 England began very early to feel the effects of cruelty towards her dependencies. severity of her government [says Macpherson] contributed more to deprive her of the continental dominions of the family of the Plantagenet than the arms of France."-See his History, vol. i.

3"By the total reduction of the kingdom of Ireland in 1691 [says Burke], the ruin of the native Irish, and in a great measure, too, of the first races of the English, was completely accomplished. The new English interest was settled with as solid a stability as any thing in human affairs can look for. All the penal laws of that unparalleled code of oppression, which were made after the last event, were manifestly

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