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UPON THE LATE GENERAL FAST.
RELUCTANT call it was; the rite delayed;
And in the Senate some there were who doffed
The last of their humanity, and scoffed.
At providential judgments, undismayed
By their own daring. But the People prayed
As with one voice; their flinty heart grew soft
With penitential sorrow, and aloft
Their spirit mounted, crying, "God us aid!"
O that with aspirations more intense,
Chastised by self-abasement more profound,
This People, once so happy, so renowned
For liberty, would seek from God defence
Against far heavier ill, the pestilence
Of revolution, impiously unbound!
SAID Secrecy to Cowardice and Fraud, Falsehood and Treachery, in close council met, Deep under ground, in Pluto's cabinet,
"The frost of England's pride will soon be thawed; Hooded the open brow that overawed
Our schemes; the faith and honor, never yet
By us with hope encountered, be upset;
For once I burst my bands, and cry, applaud!"
Then whispered she, "The Bill is carrying out!"
They heard, and, starting up, the Brood of Night Clapped hands, and shook with glee their matted locks;
All Powers and Places that abhor the light
Joined in the transport, echoed back their shout, Hurrah for hugging his Ballot-box!
BLEST Statesman he, whose Mind's unselfish will Leaves him at ease among grand thoughts: whose
Sees that, apart from magnanimity,
Wisdom exists not; nor the humbler skill
Of Prudence, disentangling good and ill
With patient care. What though assaults run high, They daunt not him who holds his ministry, Resolute, at all hazards, to fulfil
Its duties; prompt to move but firm to wait, Knowing, things rashly sought are rarely found; That, for the functions of an ancient State, Strong by her charters, free because imbound, Servant of Providence, not slave of Fate, Perilous is sweeping change, all chance unsound
IN ALLUSION TO VARIOUS RECENT HISTORIES AND NOTICES OF THE FRENCH REVOLUTION.
PORTENTOUS change, when History can appear As the cool advocate of foul device;
Reckless audacity extol, and jeer
At consciences perplexed with scruples nice!
They who bewail not, must abhor, the sneer
Born of Conceit, Power's blind Idolater;
Or haply sprung from vaunting Cowardice
Betrayed by mockery of holy fear.
Hath it not long been said the wrath of Man
Works not the righteousness of God? O bend,
Bend, ye Perverse! to judgments from on High,
Laws that lay under Heaven's perpetual ban
All principles of action that transcend
The sacred limits of humanity.
WHO ponders National events shall find
An awful balancing of loss and gain,
Joy based on sorrow, good with all combined,
And proud deliverence issuing out of pain
And direful throes; as if the All-ruling Mind,
With whose perfection it consists to ordain
Volcanic burst, earthquake, and hurricane,
Dealt in like sort with feeble human kind
By laws immutable. But woe for him
Who, thus deceived, shall lend an eager hand
To social havoc. Is not Conscience ours,
And Truth, whose eye guilt only can make dim;
And Will, whose office, by Divine command,
Is to control and check disordered Powers?
LONG-FAVORED England! be not thou misled
By monstrous theories of alien growth,
Lest alien frenzy seize thee, waxing wroth,
Self-smitten till thy garments reek dyed red
With thy own blood, which tears in torrents shed
Fail to wash out, tears flowing ere thy troth
Be plighted, not to ease, but sullen sloth,
Or wan despair, -the ghost of false hope fled
Into a shameful grave. Among thy youth,
My Country! if such warning be held dear,
Then shall a veteran's heart be thrilled with joy,
One who would gather from eternal truth,
For time and season, rules that work to cheer, to save the People, not destroy.
MEN of the Western World! in Fate's dark book
Whence these opprobrious leaves of dire portent?
Think ye your British Ancestors forsook
Their native Land, for outrage provident;
From unsubmissive necks the bridle shook,
To give, in their Descendants, freer vent
And wider range to passions turbulent,
To mutual tyranny a deadlier look?
Nay, said a voice, soft as the south-wind's breath,
Dive through the stormy surface of the flood
To the great current flowing underneath;
Explore the countless springs of silent good;
So shall the truth be better understood,
And thy grieved Spirit brighten strong in faith.
DAYS undefiled by luxury or sloth,
Firm self-denial, manners grave and staid,
Rights equal, laws with cheerfulness obeyed,
Words that require no sanction from an oath,
And simple honesty a common growth,
This high repute, with bounteous Nature's aid,
Won confidence, now ruthlessly betrayed
the measure of your troth!
All who revere the memory of Penn
Grieve for the land on whose wild woods his name
Was fondly grafted with a virtuous aim,
Renounced, abandoned, by degenerate Men,
For state-dishonor black as ever came
To upper air from Mammon's loathsome den.
AT BOLOGNA, IN REMEMBRANCE OF THE LATE INSURREC
Ан, why deceive ourselves! by no mere fit
Of sudden passion roused shall men attain