Yet let them only share the praises due
If few their wants, their pleasures are but few
For every want that stimulates the breast,
Becomes a source of pleasure, when redrest.
Whence from such lands each pleasing science flies
That first excites desire, and then supplies ;
Unknown to them, when sensual pleasures cloy,
To fill the languid pause with finer joy;
Unknown those pow'rs that raise the foul to flame,
Catch ev'ry nerve, and vibrate thro' the frame:
Their level life is but a mould’ring fire,
Unquench'd by want, unfann'd by strong desire,
Unfit for raptures, or, if raptures cheer
On some high festival of once a-year,
In wild excels the vulgar breast takes fire,
'T buried in debauch, the bliss expire.

But not their joys alone thus coarsely flow-
Their morals, like their pleasures, are but low;
For, as refinement stops, from fire to fon,
Unalter’d, unimprov'd, the manners run,
And love’s and friendthip's finely pointed dart
Fall blunted from each indurated heart:
Some fterner virtues o'er the mountain's breast
May fit, like falcons cow'ring on the nest;
But all the gentler morals, such as play
Thro' life's more cultur'd walks, and charm the way,
These, far dispers'd, on timorous pinions fly,
To sport and flutter in a kinder sky.

To kinder skies, where gentler manners reign, I turn--and France displays her bright domain: Gay, sprightly land of mirth and social ease, Pleas'd with thyself, whom all the world can please,

How often have I led thy sportive choir,
With tuneless pipe, beside the murmuring Loire!
Where shading elms along the margin grew,
And freshen'd from the wave the zephyr flew;
And haply, tho' my harsh touch, fault'ring still,
But mock'd all tune, and marr'd the dancer's skill,
Yet would the village praise my wond'rous pow'r,
And dance, forgetful of the noon-tide hour:
Alike all ages-Dames of ancient days
Have led their children through the mirthful maze,
And the gay grandfire, skill'd in gestic lore,
Has frisk'd beneath the burthen of threescore.

So blest a life these thoughtless realms display-
Thus idly busy rolls their world away ;
Their's are those arts that mind to mind endear,
For honour forms the social temper here-
Honour, that praise which real merit gains,
Or even imaginary worth obtains,
Here passes current-paid from hand to hand,
It shifts in splendid traffic round the land;
From courts to camps, to cottages it strays,
And all are taught an avarice of praise;
They please, are pleas’d—they give to get esteem,
'Till, seeming blest, they grow to what they seem.

But while this softer art their bliss supplies,
It gives their follies also room to rise;
For praise too dearly lov'd or warmly fought,
Enfeebles all internal strength of thought;
And the weak soul, within itself unbleft,
Leans for all pleasure on another's breast:
Hence oftentation here, with tawdry art,
Pants for the vulgar praise which fools impart;

Here vanity aflumes her pert grimace,
And trims her robes of frieze with


Here beggar pride defrauds her daily cheer,
To boast one splendid banquet once a-year-
The mind still turns where shifting fashion draws,
Nor weighs the solid worth of self-applause.

To men of other minds my fancy flies,
Embosom'd in the deep where Holland lies;
Methinks her patient fons before me stand,
Where the broad ocean leans against the land,
And, sedulous to stop the coming tide,
Lift the tall rampire's artificial pride :
Onward, methinks, and diligently flow,
The firm connected bulwark seems to grow;
Spreads its long arms amidst the watery roar,
Scoops out an empire, and usurps the shore:
While the pent ocean, rising o'er the pile,
Sees an amphibious world beneath him smile
The now canal, the yellow-blossom’d vale,
The willow-tufted bank, the gliding fail,
The crowded mart, the cultivated plain-
A new creation rescued from his reign.

Thus, while around the wave-subjected foil
Impels the native to repeated toil,
Industrious habits in each bosom reign,
And industry begets a love of gain.
Hence all the good from opulence that springs,
With all those ills superfluous treasure brings,
Are here display'd. Their much lov'd wealth imparts
Convenience, plenty, elegance, and arts;
But view them closer, craft and fraud appear,
Ev'n liberty itself is barter'd here:

At gold's superior charms all freedom flies--
The needy sell it, and the rich man buys;
A land of tyrants, and a den of llaves,
Here wretches seek disonourable graves,
And calmly bent, to servitude conform,
Dull as their lakes that number in the storm.

Heavens! how unlike their Belgic fires of old !
Rough, poor, content, ungovernably bold;
War in each breast, and freedom on each brow;
How much unlike the fons of Britain now!

Fir'd at the found, my genius spreads her wing,
And flies where Britain courts the western spring;
Where la.vns extend that scorn Arcadian pride,
And brighter streams than fam'd Hydaspis glide.
There all around the gentlest breezes stray,
There gentle music melts on every spray;
Creation's mildest charms are there combin'd,
Extremes are only in the master's mind:
Stern o’er each bosom reason holds her state,
With daring aims irregularly great;
Pride in their port, defiance in their eye,
I see the lords of human kind pass by,
Intent on high designs, a thoughtful band,
By forms unfashion'd, fresh from Nature's hand;
Fierce in their native hardiness of soul,
True to imagin'd right, above controul-
While even the peasant boasts these rights to scan,
And learns to venerate himself as man.

Thine, Freedom, thine the blessings pictur'd here, Thine are those charms that dazzle and endear: Too blest, indeed, were such without alloy, But, foster'd even by freedom, ills annoy

That independence Britons prize too high,
Keeps man from man, and breaks the social tie;
The self-dependent lordlings stand alone,
All claims that bind and sweeten life unknown :
Here, by the bonds of nature feebly held,
Minds combat minds, repelling and repellid;
Ferments arise, imprison'd factions roar,
Represt ambition struggles round her More
Till, over-wrought, the general system feels
Its motions stop, or phrenzy fire the wheels.

Nor this the worst: As nature's ties decay,
As duty, love, and honour fail to sway,
Fictitious bonds—the bonds of wealth and law
Still gather strength, and force unwilling awe.
Hence all obedience bows to these alone,
And talent sinks, and merit weeps unknown;
Till time may come, when, stript of all her charms,
The land of scholars, and the nurse of arms,
Where noble stems transmit the patriot claim,
Where kings have toild, and poets wrote for fame,
One sink of level avarice shall 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;
Ye pow'rs of truth, that bid my soul aspire,

Far from my bosom drive the low desire!
And thou, fair Freedom, taught alike to feel
The rabble's rage and tyrant's angry steel ;
Thou transitory flow'r, alike undone
By proud contempt, or favour's fostering fun,
Still may thy blooms the changeful clime endure,
I only would repress them—to secure;

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