The Times

Inaction now is crime. The old earth reels
Inebriate with guilt; and Vice, grown bold,
Laughs Innocence to scorn. The thirst for gold
Hath made men demons, till the heart that feels
The impulse of impartial love, nor kneels
In worship foul to Mammon, is contemn'd.
lie who hath kept his purer faith, and stemm'd
Corruption's tide, and from the ruffian heels
Of impious tramplers rescued peril'd right,
Is call'd fanatic, and with scoffs and jeers
Maliciously assail'd. The poor man's tears
Are unregarded; the oppressor's might
Revered as law; and he whose righteous way
Departs from evil, makes himself a prey.