Sacheverel

A sudden conflict rises from the swell
Of a proud slavery met by tenets strained
In Liberty's behalf. Fears, true or feigned,
Spread through all ranks; and lo! the Sentinel
Who loudest rang his pulpit 'larum bell
Stands at the Bar, absolved by female eyes
Mingling their glances with grave flatteries
Lavished on Him--that England may rebel
Against her ancient virtue. HIGH and LOW,
Watch-words of Party, on all tongues are rife;
As if a Church, though sprung from heaven, must owe
To opposites and fierce extremes her life,--
Not to the golden mean, and quiet flow
Of truths that soften hatred, temper strife.