ODE X.

TO THE

PEOPLE OF GREAT BRITAIN.

WRITTEN IN M DCC XLVI.

BY THE LATE BISHOP LOWTH.

BRITON! the thunder of the wrath divine, Due to thy fathers' crimes, and long with-held from thine,

Shall burst with tenfold rage on thy devoted head; Unless with conscious terrors aw'd,

By meek, heart-struck repentance led, Suppliant thou fall before th' offended God: If haply yet thou may'st avert his ire;

And stay his arm out-stretch'd to launch the avenging fire.

Did not high God of old ordain,

When to thy grasp he gave the sceptre of the main,
That empire in this favor'd land,

Fix'd on religion's solid base should stand?
When from thy struggling neck he broke
Th' inglorious, galling, papal yoke,
Humbled the pride of haughty Spain,
And freed thee by a woman-hero's hand;

He then confirm'd the strong decree :
Briton, be virtuous and be free;

'Be truth, be sanctity thy guide:

'Be humble fear thy God; and fear thou none beside.'

Oft has th' offended Power his rising anger shown:
Led on by his avenging hand
Rebellion triumphs in the land:

Twice have her barbarous sons our war-train'd hosts o'erthrown.

They fell a cheap inglorious prey;

The ambitious victor's boast was half supprest, While heav'n-bred fear, and wild dismay, Unman'd the warrior's heart, and reign'd in every breast.

Her arms to foreign lands Britannia bore ;
Her arms, auspicious now no more!

With frequent conquests where the sires were crown'd;

The sons ill-fated fell, and bit the hostile ground: The tame, war-trading Belgian fled,

While in his cause the Briton bled: The Gaul stood wondring at his own success; Oft did his hardiest bands their wonted fears confess; Struck with dismay, and meditating flight; While the brave foe still urg'd th' unequal fight, While WILLIAM, with his Father's ardor fir'd, Through all th' undaunted host the generous flame inspir'd!

But heavier far the weight of shame
That sunk Britannia's naval fame :

In vain she spreads her once victorious sails, Or fear, or rashness, in her chiefs prevails; And wildly these prevent, those basely shun the fight;

Content with hnmble praise, the foe

Avoids the long-impending blow;

Improves the kind escape, and triumphs in his flight.

The monstrous age, which still increasing years debase,

Which teems with unknown crimes, and genders new disgrace,

First, unrestrain'd by honor, faith, or shame,
Confounding every sacred name,

The hallow'd nuptial bed with lawless lust profan'd;
Deriv'd from this polluted source

The dire corruption held its course

Through the whole canker'd race, and tainted all the land.

The rip'ning maid is vers'd in ev'ry dangerous art, That ill adorns the form while it corrupts the heart: Practis'd to dress, to dance, to play,

In wanton mask to lead the way,

To move the pliant limbs, to roll the luring eye ;
With folly's gayest partizans to vye
In empty noise and vain expence;
To celebrate with flaunting air

The midnight revels of the fair;

Studious of every praise but virtue, truth, and sense.

Thus lesson'd in intrigue her early thought im.

proves,

Nor meditates in vain forbidden loves;

Soon the gay nymph in Cyprus' train shall rove
Free and at large amidst th' Idalian grove;
Or haply jealous of the voice of fame,
Mask'd in the matron's sober name,
With many a well-dissembled wile

The kind, convenient husband's care beguile;
More deeply vers'd in Venus' mystic lore,
Yet for such meaner arts too lofty and sublime,
The proud, high-born patrician whore,
Bears unbash'd her front; and glories in her crime.

Hither from city and from court

The votaries of love resort;

The rich, the great, the gay, and the severe;
The pension'd architect of laws;

The patriot, loud in virtue's cause;
Proud of imputed worth, the peer:
Regardless of his faith, his country, or his name,
He pawns his honor and estate;

Nor reckons at how dear a rate

He purchases disease, and servitude, and shame.

Not from such dastard sires, to every virtue lost, Sprung the brave youth which Britain once could

boast:

Who curb'd the Gaul's usurping sway,
Who swept th' unnumber'd hosts away,

In Agincourt, and Cressy's glorious plain;
Who dy'd the seas with Spanish blood,
Their vainly-vaunted fleets subdu'd,

And spread the mighty wreck o'er all the van. quish'd main.

No-'t was a generous race, by worth transmissive known:

In their bold breast their father's spirit glow'd:
In their
pure veins their mother's virtue flow'd:
They made hereditary praise their own.
The sire his emulous offspring led
The rougher paths of fame to tread;
The matron train'd their spotless youth
In honour, sanctity, and truth;
Form'd by th' united parent's care,

The sons, though bold, were wise; the daughters chaste, though fair.

How Time, all-wasting, ev'n the worst impairs, And each foul age to dregs still fouler runs!

Our sires, more vicious ev'n than theirs,

Left us, still more degenerate heirs,

To spawn a baser brood of monster-breeding sons.