Ambition

Hail sovereign power, whose mighty sway, All nations of the world obey. Ere fountain flowed or hill appeared, On high thy hideous head was reared. For first with thee, in Heaven above, Satan fell desperately in love. His followers too, with lowly bows, To thee addresses paid and vows. But sent from Heaven with all thy train, In Hell thy standard's raised again, There would'st thou fire that rebel mob, To undertake that daring job, Discountenanced by BEELZEBUB. As MILTON so divinely sings, Who soared below with downward wings, Th' infernal records there to show, That Register of Deeds below. There maddened with heroic fires, As ev'n ambition's self aspires, The Stygian pool behold her leave, To play her pranks with grandmame Eve; And by her art o'ercame her so, The world was given up to woe, And fired by thee, too, some time after, Nimrod, by help of brick and mortar, With all his rebel crew, would fain, Attempt heaven's battlements to gain: When heaven with ridicule and pity, Looks down upon their tower and city, Confounds the language of their rabble, And stops the progress of their Babel.

LO, taught by her what bards, what heroes; What Alexanders and what Maros, To one to drown the world in blood, To shed of human gore the flood; The other can't his worth disparage, But sings his greatness and his courage. She bids the soldier seek for fame, Where bullets whiz, or cannons flame; She bids th' historian's pen declare, His bravery in the field of war; She bids the youthful poet-strain, Lawrels of long renown to gain. She bids the fop his ruffles show, And makes a witling of the beau; With conquest fills the female mind; Sets gauzes streaming in the wind; She learns the ogling eye to turn, And tells the little heart to burn.

WITH Tyburn hymns from Attic story, She shows poor bards the way to glory, She prompts the dreams of politicians, Shows airbuilt castles in her visions. Bids JARVIS after CONGRESS strive, And keeps an AUSTIN's hopes alive. Lifts Maxamilian to a throne, Or kindly pulls a Stuart down. Rules in all ages and all climes, Yet does a little good sometimes.

SHE opens Euclid to the student, Who finds not half a gill of good in't. She bids him waste his hours away, In pouring over Algebra. She bids him calculate how far From Terra to the nearest star; How long 'twould take a man to go it, And then by mathematics show it. She rears the bumpkin from the dirt, Bids him put on his ruffled shirt: Yea, learns him how to write and read, Where whips and ferules won't succeed. Oft warms the feelings of the Stoic, And cowards prompts to deeds heroic.