To fee a band call'd patriot for no cause,
But that they catch at popular applause,
Careless of all th' anxiety he feels,
Hook difappointment on the public wheels;
With all their flippant fluency of tongue,
Moft confident, when palpably most wrong;
If this be kingly, then farewell for me
All kingfhip, and may I be poor and free.
To be the Table Talk of clubs up ftairs,
To which th' unwafh'd artificer repairs,
T' indulge his genius, after long fatigue,
By diving into cabinet intrigue,
(For what kings doom a toil, as well they may,
To him is relaxation and mere play);
To win no praise when well wrought plans prevail,
But to be rudely cenfur'd when they fail;
To doubt the love his fav'rites may pretend,
And in reality to find no friend;
If he indulge a cultivated taste,
His gall'ries with the works of art well grac'd,
To hear it call'd extravagance and waste;
If these attendants, and if fuch as thefe,
Muft follow royalty, then welcome eafe;
However humble and confin'd the sphere,
Happy the ftate that has not these to fear.
A. Thus men whofe thoughts contemplative have
On fituations that they never felt,
Start up fagacious, cover'd with the dust
Of dreaming ftudy and pedantic ruft,
And prate and preach about what others prove,
As if the world and they were hand and glove.
Leave kingly backs to cope with kingly cares,
They have their weight to carry, fubjects their's;
Poets, of all men, ever leaft regret
Increasing taxes and the nation's debt.
Could you contrive the payment, and rehearse
The mighty plan, oracular, in verse,
No bard, howe'er majestic, old or new,
Should claim my fixt attention more than you.
B. Not Brindley nor Bridgewater would effay
To turn the courfe of Helicon that way;
Nor would the nine confent, the facred tide
Should purl amidst the traffic of Cheapfide,
Or tinkle in 'Change Alley, to amufe
The leathern ears of stock-jobbers and Jews.
A. Vouchsafe at least to pitch the key of rhime
To themes more pertinent, if lefs fublime,
When minifters and minifterial arts,
Patriots who love good places at their hearts;
When Admirals extoll'd for ftanding ftill,
Or doing nothing with a deal of skill;
Gen'rals who will not conquer when they may,
Firm friends to peace, to pleasure, and good pay;
When freedom wounded almoft to defpair,
Though discontent alone can find out where;
When themes like thefe employ the poet's tongue,
I hear as mute as it a fyren fung.
Or tell me if you can, what pow'r maintains
A Briton's fcorn of arbitrary chains?
That were a theme might animate the dead,
And move the lips of poets cast in lead.
B. The caufe, tho' worth the fearch, may yet eludė
Conjecture and remark, however fhrewd.
They take, perhaps, a well directed aim,
Who feek it in his climate and his frame.
Lib'ral in all things elfe, yet nature here
With ftern feverity deals out the year..
Winter invades the spring, and often pours
A chilling flood on fummer's drooping flow'rs;
Unwelcome vapours quench autumnal beams,
Ungenial blafts attending, curl the streams;
The peasants urge their harvest, ply the fork
With double toil, and fhiver at their work;
Thus with a rigor, for his good defign'd,
She rears her fav'rite man of all mankind.
His form robuft and of elaftic tone,
Proportion'd well, half mufcle and half bone,
B 5
Supplies with warm activity and force
A mind well lodg'd, and masculine of course.
Hence liberty, sweet liberty inspires,
And keeps alive his fierce but noble fires.
Patient of conftitutional controul,
He bears it with meek manliness of foul;
But if authority grow wanton, woe
To him that treads upon his free-born toe,
One step beyond the bound'ry of the laws
Fires him at once in freedom's glorious caufe.
Thus proud prerogative, not much rever'd,
Is feldom felt, though sometimes feen and heard ;
And in his eage, like parrot fine and gay,
Is kept to ftrut, look big, and talk away.
Born in a climate fofter far than our's,
Not form'd like us, with fuch Herculean pow'rs,.
The Frenchman, eafy, debonair and brifk,
Give him his lafs, his fiddle and his frifk,
Is always happy, reign whoever may,
And laughs the sense of mis'ry far away.
He drinks his fimple bev'rage with a guft,
And feafting on an onion and a cruft,
We never feel th' alacrity and joy
With which he fhouts and carols, Vive le Roy
Fill'd with as much true merriment and glee,
As if he heard his king fay-Slave, be free.
Thus happiness depends, as nature shews,
Lefs on exterior things than most suppose..
Vigilant over all that he has made,
Kind Providence attends with gracious aid,
Bids equity throughout his works prevail,
And weighs the nations in an even scale;
He can encourage flavery to a smile,
And fill with discontent a British isle.
A. Freeman and flave then, if the cafe be fuch,
Stand on a level, and you prove too much.
If all men indifcriminately fhare
His foft'ring pow'r and tutelary care,›
As well be yoked by defpotism's hand,
As dwell at large in Britain's charter'd land..
B. No. Freedom has a thoufand charmis to fhow, That flaves, howe'er contented,, never know,
'The mind attains beneath her happy reign,
The growth that nature meant he should attain.
The varied fields of fcience, ever new,
Op'ning and wider op'ning on her view,
She ventures onward, with a profp'rous force,
While no base fear impedes her in her course.
Religion, richest favour of the skies,
Stands most reveal'd before the free-man's eyes;
No fhades of fuperftition blot the day,
Liberty chafes all that gloom away.
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