ELEGY 2d. On the Tyranny of his Britannic Majesty

Auspicious hour! again the fav'ring Muse My ardor prompts, nor can my pen refrain: Shall I the kind, indulgent call refuse, Or blast the impulse by a cold disdain?—

Genius of Liberty! do thou preside The jealous Guardian of our Western sphere! Here may thy Fanes emerge in sacred pride, And e'en exotic vot'ries worship here!

Hapless Britannia—deluded isle!— Lost are thy former virtues—lost thy fame!— Ah! sad reverse—when Albion's honour'd soil Ignobly changes to a land of shame!

Accurs'd Ambition, how dost thou disgrace The splendid Monarch, and his sceptre stain!— Will not some future good the blot efface— Or nought but ills distinguish George's reign!

Say, shall the sword, unsheath'd by tyrant rage, Profanely glitter o'er no alien land? Inhuman strife! where sires with sons engage, And brothers languish by a brother's hand.

Ill-fated victims of despotic ire, What crouds of heroes have their breath resign'd! See Warren bleed—Montgomery expire, And greatly fall for freedom and mankind!

Relentless war—inexorable fate— Does death exult—superior greatness seize! Ah! why forbid the hero longer date— Ah! why not take less valu'd lives than these?—

Nor yet, confin'd within the patriot's tomb, Declines his fame, or moulders with his dust, Virtue's fair wreath commands eternal bloom— Perennial honours coronate the just.

Not the rude ravage of oblivious years Merit impares, nor yet decays with age: The gilded Tome conspicuous worth reveres, And proudly stamps it on th' historic page.