Occasional Stanzas, Written at the Request of the Revolution Society

Dear is the face of cloudless night,
And dear each radiant starry guide,
To men whom science and renown invite
To steer the venturous bark thro' seas untried;
So dear to every generous race
The lustre beaming from their fires,
Whose distant deeds 'tis ecstacy to trace,
Whose fame, re-echoing from unnumber'd lyres,
Grows with increasing time, and every age inspires.

Amid wild nature's rudest reign,
That dauntless COOK's keen eye survey'd,
The veriest savage of the Southern main
The debt of just commemoration paid;
He sung of buried Chiefs, in whom
Young valour might a model see:
Britain! blest isle, where social virtues bloom,
Reflect what honours must be due from thee
To those who knew thee brave, and taught thee to be free.

Is it an art of curious care
To guard the rights deriv'd from God?
And will not Valour's native impulse tear
From Tyranny's weak grasp Oppression's rod?
Thus ardent youth, perchance, may ask:
But patient toil from age to age,
When Fortitude and Wisdom plied the task,
The toil of many a chief and many a sage,
Secur'd not Freedom's Fane from Superstition's rage.

In vain the Barons bravely fix'd
The ground-work of that glorious Fane;
In vain, when Faith, with Papal art unmix'd,
Shed Heav'n's pure radiance on this fair domain,
Th' enlighten'd spirits of our isle,
True heirs of Freedom's ancient race,
With ardour added to her stately pile
Columns of clearer vein and firmer grace;
The dome their virtue deck'd was shaken to its base.

Recall'd by an apostate King,
The fiends, long banish'd hence, return,
To poison Liberty's life-feeding spring,
And taint the stream of Truth's celestial urn:
The basest of the hellish horde,
Barbarity, with pride assumes
From fainting Justice her polluted sword;
While Superstition, mad with Fortune's fumes,
Shakes on the darken'd throne her blood-distilling plumes.

O'erwhelm'd where most her bounty smil'd,
Astonish'd Freedom gasp'd for breath,
And her sunk voice was feeble as a child.
In its first struggle with untimely death;
But the safe infant's vital sound
To the fond parent lost in fear,
Lest haply new-imparted life be drown'd,
Is not more welcome, more sublimely dear,
Than Freedom's suppliant voice to Virtue's generous ear.

For Britain, and for human kind,
To raise the prostrate form of Law,
Attentive Virtue held her seat, enshrin'd
In thy unconquerable soul, NASSAU!
Heroes, by victory more carest,
The fiery bolts of war have hurl'd,
And conquerors have liv'd of earth the pest;
But Glory's self, from all her flags unfurl'd,
Counts not a name like thine a blessing to the world.

Depress'd, dishonour'd, wrong'd, enthrall'd,
Withering in shame's soul-blighting shade,
To thee our deeply-suffering Country call'd,
As innocence to Heaven, secure of aid:
For well she knew thy spirit's force,
Which, firm as a defensive tower,
Checking outrageous devastation's course,
Stood, in thy Nation's dark despairing hour,
The champion of Distress, the scourge of lawless power.

Purest of princely names! unsway'd
By base ambition's sordid springs,
In thee the rescued world was richly paid
For the oppressive crimes of prouder kings:
The Gallic despot, in his dreams
Of wide unlimited controul,
Tho' flattery, rich in fancy's magic beams,
Blazon'd him high on Glory's gorgeous roll,
Sunk into dim eclipse beneath thy brighter soul.

As in the seas, where sultry air
The wildly-tortuous wave imples,
Hideous, and hostile to the seaman's prayer,
The watery column of perdition swells:
Yet haply a corrective power
The vex'd and maddening waters feel;
Tho' in their spiral force Fate seems to lower,
The mass, portentous to the vessel's weal,
Dissolves at the approach of science-pointed steel.

So, rais'd by Bigotry's hot breath,
And pregnant with unnumber'd woes,
With every form of danger and of death,
Here the strange bulk of Tyranny arose;
And so, when Freedom's darken'd isle
The baleful prodigy deplor'd,
So, brave NASSAU! this sudden upstart pile,
This public misery's tempestuous hoard,
Dispers'd before the point of thy preserving sword.

Science, Religion, every power
Friendly to earth and true to Heaven,
Exulted in the blest and bloodless hour,
When Freedom's sceptre to thy sway was given:
The probity that rul'd thy heart,
And taught the fearful to rejoice,
Scorning to awe with force or lure with art,
Left rescu'd Liberty's reviving voice
To fix in free debate the sovereign of her choice.

Conscious of all a monarch's care,
And firm his duties to fulfil,
Thy generous spirit, with a guardian's air,
Receiv'd the gift of her unbiass'd will:
By Freedom crown'd, for her thy life,
That never fear'd the storms of Fate,
Was freely stak'd in peril's distant strife,
When, arm'd with Gallic war's presumptuous weight,
The recreant JAMES reclaim'd his abdicated state.

The Boyne's proud banks with triumph ring,
With sounds that tell to every land,
That Freedom, happy in her chosen king,
Trusted her battle to no feeble hand:
Nor victory's shouts, that round thee rose,
Nor flying terror's suppliant call,
Prais'd thee, NASSAU I like paeans from thy foes,
When France, who heard of one insidious ball,
Indulg'd a coward's joy on thy imagin'd fall.

While bleeding on Ierne's shore,
England, thy brave Deliverer fought,
What various doubts thy anxious bosom tore!
With what just fears was every moment fraught!
But, to preserve thee from dismay,
He left a Regent pure and bright;
And, like the absent ruler of the day,
That his sost delegate might chear the sight,
Fill'd her benignant soul with his reflected light.

MARY, sweet partner of his throne,
So truly to his spirit join'd,
With mutual aid your mingled virtues shone,
Like social talents in one perfect mind;
To thee, whom, with thy martial Lord,
Heav'n form'd to gild our darkest days,
May tender Truth strike Honour's tuneful chord,
As long as Freedom to her friends shall raise
Her high heroic hymn of heart-suggested praise.

And O! while crown'd with silvery clifts,
Symbols of her commercial reign,
Britain her fair imperial presence lifts
Above the billows of the subject main;
So long, array'd in Honour's robe,
May Freedom hail each favourite name,
Who taught this speck of earth to awe the globe;
So long may Glory, in her songs, proclaim
The Champions of our Rights, the Founders of our Fame.

Whether, in Fortune's evil hour,
They shar'd the martyr'd RUSSELL's fall;
Or call'd, like CA'NDISH, to heroic power,
And saw felicity succeed the call;
Still, Britain, bless, through every age,
Each ardent friend of equal laws,
And most the generous Chief, and perfect Sage,
NASSAU and SOMERS, who, in Freedom's cause,
Toil'd to befriend mankind, unbrib'd by their applause.

That transient honour might be gain'd,
How oft, by Falsehood's subtle vow,
Has thy pure name, O Freedom! been profan'd,
Tho' Heaven abhors not falsehood more than thou!—
Thro' every clime thy feet have trod,
In this abuse thy power we see;
Miscreants who injur'd man, and mock'd their God,
The slaves of Hell, affecting to be free,
Have ever loudly feign'd a reverence for thee.

Be known to unsuspecting youth,
Both by thy fruits, and by thy source;
Thy parents, Fortitude and Heavenly Truth!
Thy offspring, Safety, Honour, Wealth, and Force!—
A century has now confirm'd
The blessings that in thee we find;
Then, Freedom I be this season ever term'd
Thy Jubilee, where no illusions blind,
But justly-founded joy invigorates the mind.

Britain! dear parent, if to thee
My voice, unstain'd by servile art,
Pays reverence due, and, proud to hail thee free,
Pours the true fervour of a filial heart;
If thou hast ever rul'd my lyre,
Thus let thy inspiration run;
Let each who hears it, catching Patriot fire,
Prize, above all by slavish interest won,
The blessing to be prov'd thy undegenerate son.