The Pilot That Weathered the Storm

If hush'd the loud whirlwind that ruffled the deep,
The sky if no longer dark tempests deform,
When our perils are past, shall our gratitude sleep?
No — here's to the pilot that weather'd the storm!

At the footstool of Power let Flattery fawn;
Let Faction her idol extol to the skies;
To Virtue in humble retirement withdrawn,
Unblamed may the accents of gratitude rise!

And shall not his memory to Britain be dear,
Whose example with envy ai! nations behold?
A Statesman unbiass'd by interest or fear.
By power uncorrupted, untainted by gold!

Who, when terror and doubt thro' the universe reign'd,
When rapine and treason their standards unfurl'd,
The hearts and the hopes of his country maintain'd,
And our kingdom preserved midst the wreck of the world!

Unheeding, unthankful, we bask in the blaze,
While the beams of the sun in full majesty shine:
When he sinks into twilight with fondness we gaze,
And mark the mild lustre that gilds his decline.

So, Pitt, when the course of thy greatness is o'er.
Thy talents, thy virtues, we fondly recall;
Now justly we prize thee, when lost we deplore;
Admired in thy zenith, but loved in thy fall.

O take them, for dangers by wisdom repell'd.
For evils by courage and constancy braved,
O take for thy throne by thy counsels upheld
The thanks of a people thy firmness has saved.

And oh! if again the rude whirlwind should rise,
The dawning of peace should fresh darkness deform;
The regrets of the good and the fears of the wise.
Shall turn to the pilot that weather'd the storm.