Poetical Works by Charles Churchill - LightNovelsOnl.com
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Is Freedom to be crush'd, and every son Who dares maintain her cause, to be undone?
Is base Corruption, creeping through the land, To plan, and work her ruin, underhand, 380 With regular approaches, sure, though slow?
Or must she perish by a single blow?
Are kings, who trust to servants, and depend In servants (fond, vain thought!) to find a friend, To be abused, and made to draw their breath In darkness thicker than the shades of death?
Is G.o.d's most holy name to be profaned, His word rejected, and his laws arraign'd, His servants scorn'd, as men who idly dream'd, His service laugh'd at, and his Son blasphemed? 390 Are debauchees in morals to preside?
Is Faith to take an Atheist for her guide?
Is Science by a blockhead to be led?
Are States to totter on a drunkard's head?
To answer all these purposes, and more, More black than ever villain plann'd before, Search earth, search h.e.l.l, the Devil cannot find An agent like Lothario to his mind.
Is this n.o.bility, which, sprung from kings, Was meant to swell the power from whence it springs; 400 Is this the glorious produce, this the fruit, Which Nature hoped for from so rich a root?
Were there but two, (search all the world around) Were there but two such n.o.bles to be found, The very name would sink into a term Of scorn, and man would rather be a worm Than be a lord: but Nature, full of grace, Nor meaning birth and t.i.tles to be base, Made only one, and having made him, swore, In mercy to mankind, to make no more: 410 Nor stopp'd she there, but, like a generous friend, The ills which Error caused, she strove to mend, And having brought Lothario forth to view, To save her credit, brought forth Sandwich too.
G.o.ds! with what joy, what honest joy of heart, Blunt as I am, and void of every art, Of every art which great ones in the state Practise on knaves they fear, and fools they hate, To t.i.tles with reluctance taught to bend, Nor p.r.o.ne to think that virtues can descend, 420 Do I behold (a sight, alas! more rare Than Honesty could wish) the n.o.ble wear His father's honours, when his life makes known They're his by virtue, not by birth alone; When he recalls his father from the grave, And pays with interest back that fame he gave: Cured of her splenetic and sullen fits, To such a peer my willing soul submits, And to such virtue is more proud to yield Than 'gainst ten t.i.tled rogues to keep the field. 430 Such, (for that truth e'en Envy shall allow) Such Wyndham was, and such is Sandwich now.
O gentle Montague! in blessed hour Didst thou start up, and climb the stairs of power; England of all her fears at once was eased, Nor, 'mongst her many foes, was one displeased: France heard the news, and told it cousin Spain; Spain heard, and told it cousin France again; The Hollander relinquished his design Of adding spice to spice, and mine to mine; 440 Of Indian villanies he thought no more, Content to rob us on our native sh.o.r.e: Awed by thy fame, (which winds with open mouth Shall blow from east to west, from north to south) The western world shall yield us her increase, And her wild sons be soften'd into peace; Rich eastern monarchs shall exhaust their stores, And pour unbounded wealth on Albion's sh.o.r.es; Unbounded wealth, which from those golden scenes, And all acquired by honourable means, 450 Some honourable chief shall hither steer, To pay our debts, and set the nation clear.
Nabobs themselves, allured by thy renown, Shall pay due homage to the English crown; Shall freely as their king our king receive-- Provided the Directors give them leave.
Union at home shall mark each rising year, Nor taxes be complain'd of, though severe; Envy her own destroyer shall become, And Faction with her thousand mouths be dumb: 460 With the meek man thy meekness shall prevail, Nor with the spirited thy spirit fail: Some to thy force of reason shall submit, And some be converts to thy princely wit: Reverence for thee shall still a nation's cries, A grand concurrence crown a grand excise; And unbelievers of the first degree, Who have no faith in G.o.d, have faith in thee.
When a strange jumble, whimsical and vain, Possess'd the region of each heated brain; 470 When some were fools to censure, some to praise, And all were mad, but mad in different ways; When commonwealthsmen, starting at the shade Which in their own wild fancy had been made, Of tyrants dream'd, who wore a th.o.r.n.y crown, And with state bloodhounds hunted Freedom down; When others, struck with fancies not less vain, Saw mighty kings by their own subjects slain, And, in each friend of Liberty and Law, With horror big, a future Cromwell saw, 480 Thy manly zeal stept forth, bade discord cease, And sung each jarring atom into peace; Liberty, cheer'd by thy all-cheering eye, Shall, waking from her trance, live and not die; And, patronised by thee, Prerogative Shall, striding forth at large, not die, but live; Whilst Privilege, hung betwixt earth and sky, Shall not well know whether to live or die.
When on a rock which overhung the flood, And seem'd to totter, Commerce s.h.i.+vering stood; 490 When Credit, building on a sandy sh.o.r.e, Saw the sea swell, and heard the tempest roar, Heard death in every blast, and in each wave Or saw, or fancied that she saw her grave; When Property, transferr'd from hand to band, Weaken'd by change, crawl'd sickly through the land; When mutual confidence was at an end, And man no longer could on man depend; Oppress'd with debts of more than common weight, When all men fear'd a bankruptcy of state; 500 When, certain death to honour, and to trade, A sponge was talk'd of as our only aid; That to be saved we must be more undone, And pay off all our debts, by paying none; Like England's better genius, born to bless, And s.n.a.t.c.h his sinking country from distress, Didst thou step forth, and, without sail or oar, Pilot the shatter'd vessel safe to sh.o.r.e: Nor shalt thou quit, till, anchor'd firm and fast, She rides secure, and mocks the threatening blast! 510 Born in thy house, and in thy service bred, Nursed in thy arms, and at thy table fed, By thy sage counsels to reflection brought, Yet more by pattern than by precept taught, Economy her needful aid shall join To forward and complete thy grand design, And, warm to save, but yet with spirit warm, Shall her own conduct from thy conduct form.
Let friends of prodigals say what they will, Spendthrifts at home, abroad are spendthrifts still. 520 In vain have sly and subtle sophists tried Private from public justice to divide; For credit on each other they rely, They live together, and together die, 'Gainst all experience 'tis a rank offence, High treason in the eye of Common-sense, To think a statesman ever can be known To pay our debts, who will not pay his own: But now, though late, now may we hope to see Our debts discharged, our credit fair and free, 530 Since rigid Honesty (fair fall that hour!) Sits at the helm, and Sandwich is in power.
With what delight I view thee, wondrous man, With what delight survey thy sterling plan, That plan which all with wonder must behold, And stamp thy age the only age of Gold.
Nor rest thy triumphs here--that Discord fled, And sought with grief the h.e.l.l where she was bred; That Faction, 'gainst her nature forced to yield, Saw her rude rabble scatter'd o'er the field, 540 Saw her best friends a standing jest become, Her fools turn'd speakers, and her wits struck dumb; That our most bitter foes (so much depends On men of name) are turn'd to cordial friends; That our offended friends (such terror flows From men of name) dare not appear our foes; That Credit, gasping in the jaws of Death, And ready to expire with every breath, Grows stronger from disease; that thou hast saved Thy drooping country; that thy name, engraved 550 On plates of bra.s.s, defies the rage of Time; Than plates of bra.s.s more firm, that sacred rhyme Embalms thy memory, bids thy glories live, And gives thee what the Muse alone can give:-- These heights of Virtue, these rewards of Fame, With thee in common other patriots claim.
But, that poor sickly Science, who had laid And droop'd for years beneath Neglect's cold shade, By those who knew her purposely forgot, And made the jest of those who knew her not: 560 Whilst Ignorance in power, and pamper'd pride, 'Clad like a priest, pa.s.s'd by on t'other side,'
Recover'd from her wretched state, at length Puts on new health, and clothes herself with strength, To thee we owe, and to thy friendly hand Which raised, and gave her to possess the land: This praise, though in a court, and near a throne, This praise is thine, and thine, alas! alone.
With what fond rapture did the G.o.ddess smile, What blessings did she promise to this isle, 570 What honour to herself, and length of reign, Soon as she heard that thou didst not disdain To be her steward; but what grief, what shame, What rage, what disappointment, shook her frame, When her proud children dared her will dispute, When Youth was insolent,[284] and Age was mute!
That young men should be fools, and some wild few, To Wisdom deaf, be deaf to Interest too, Moved not her wonder; but that men, grown gray In search of wisdom; men who own'd the sway 580 Of Reason; men who stubbornly kept down Each rising pa.s.sion; men who wore the gown; That they should cross her will, that they should dare Against the cause of Interest to declare; That they should be so abject and unwise, Having no fear of loss before their eyes, Nor hopes of gain; scorning the ready means Of being vicars, rectors, canons, deans, With all those honours which on mitres wait, And mark the virtuous favourites of state; 590 That they should dare a Hardwicke to support, And talk, within the hearing of a court, Of that vile beggar, Conscience, who, undone, And starved herself, starves every wretched son; This turn'd her blood to gall, this made her swear No more to throw away her time and care On wayward sons who scorn'd her love, no more To hold her courts on Cam's ungrateful sh.o.r.e.
Rather than bear such insults, which disgrace Her royalty of nature, birth, and place, 600 Though Dulness there unrivall'd state doth keep, Would she at Winchester with Burton[285] sleep; Or, to exchange the mortifying scene For something still more dull, and still more mean, Rather than bear such insults, she would fly Far, far beyond the search of English eye, And reign amongst the Scots: to be a queen Is worth ambition, though in Aberdeen.
Oh, stay thy flight, fair Science! what though some, Some base-born children, rebels are become? 610 All are not rebels; some are duteous still, Attend thy precepts, and obey thy will; Thy interest is opposed by those alone Who either know not, or oppose their own.
Of stubborn virtue, marching to thy aid, Behold in black, the livery of their trade, Marshall'd by Form, and by Discretion led, A grave, grave troop, and Smith[286] is at their head, Black Smith of Trinity; on Christian ground For faith in mysteries none more renown'd. 620 Next, (for the best of causes now and then Must beg a.s.sistance from the worst of men) Next (if old story lies not) sprung from Greece, Comes Pandarus, but comes without his niece: Her, wretched maid! committed to his trust, To a rank letcher's coa.r.s.e and bloated l.u.s.t The arch, old, h.o.a.ry hypocrite had sold, And thought himself and her well d.a.m.n'd for gold.
But (to wipe off such traces from the mind, And make us in good humour with mankind) 630 Leading on men, who, in a college bred, No woman knew, but those which made their bed; Who, planted virgins on Cam's virtuous sh.o.r.e, Continued still male virgins at threescore, Comes Sumner,[287] wise, and chaste as chaste can be, With Long,[288] as wise, and not less chaste than he.
Are there not friends, too, enter'd in thy cause Who, for thy sake, defying penal laws, Were, to support thy honourable plan, Smuggled from Jersey, and the Isle of Man? 640 Are there not Philomaths of high degree Who, always dumb before, shall speak for thee?
Are there not Proctors, faithful to thy will, One of full growth, others in embryo still, Who may, perhaps, in some ten years, or more, Be ascertain'd that two and two make four, Or may a still more happy method find, And, taking one from two, leave none behind?
With such a mighty power on foot, to yield Were death to manhood; better in the field 650 To leave our carcases, and die with fame, Than fly, and purchase life on terms of shame.
Sackvilles[289] alone antic.i.p.ate defeat, And ere they dare the battle, sound retreat.
But if persuasions ineffectual prove, If arguments are vain, nor prayers can move, Yet in thy bitterness of frantic woe Why talk of Burton? why to Scotland go?
Is there not Oxford? she, with open arms, Shall meet thy wish, and yield up all her charms: 660 Shall for thy love her former loves resign, And jilt the banish'd Stuarts to be thine.
Bow'd to the yoke, and, soon as she could read, Tutor'd to get by heart the despot's creed, She, of subjection proud, shall knee thy throne, And have no principles but thine alone; She shall thy will implicitly receive, Nor act, nor speak, nor think, without thy leave.
Where is the glory of imperial sway If subjects none but just commands obey? 670 Then, and then only, is obedience seen, When by command they dare do all that's mean: Hither, then, wing thy flight, here fix thy stand, Nor fail to bring thy Sandwich in thy hand.
G.o.ds! with what joy, (for Fancy now supplies, And lays the future open to my eyes) G.o.ds! with what joy I see the worthies meet, And Brother Litchfield[290] Brother Sandwich greet!
Blest be your greetings, blest each dear embrace; Blest to yourselves, and to the human race. 680 Sickening at virtues, which she cannot reach, Which seem her baser nature to impeach, Let Envy, in a whirlwind's bosom hurl'd, Outrageous, search the corners of the world, Ransack the present times, look back to past, Rip up the future, and confess at last, No times, past, present, or to come, could e'er Produce, and bless the world with such a pair.
Phillips,[291] the good old Phillips, out of breath, Escaped from Monmouth, and escaped from death, 690 Shall hail his Sandwich with that virtuous zeal, That glorious ardour for the commonweal, Which warm'd his loyal heart and bless'd his tongue, When on his lips the cause of rebels hung; Whilst Womanhood, in habit of a nun, At Medenham[292] lies, by backward monks undone; A nation's reckoning, like an alehouse score, Whilst Paul, the aged, chalks behind a door, Compell'd to hire a foe to cast it up, Dashwood shall pour, from a communion cup, 700 Libations to the G.o.ddess without eyes, And hob or n.o.b in cider and excise.
From those deep shades, where Vanity, unknown, Doth penance for her pride, and pines alone, Cursed in herself, by her own thoughts undone, Where she sees all, but can be seen by none; Where she, no longer mistress of the schools, Hears praise loud pealing from the mouths of fools, Or hears it at a distance, in despair To join the crowd, and put in for a share, 710 Twisting each thought a thousand different ways, For his new friends new-modelling old praise; Where frugal sense so very fine is spun, It serves twelve hours, though not enough for one, King[293] shall arise, and, bursting from the dead, Shall hurl his piebald Latin at thy head.
Burton (whilst awkward affectation hung In quaint and labour'd accents on his tongue, Who 'gainst their will makes junior blockheads speak, Ignorant of both, new Latin and new Greek, 720 Not such as was in Greece and Latium known, But of a modern cut, and all his own; Who threads, like beads, loose thoughts on such a string, They're praise and censure; nothing, every thing; Pantomime thoughts, and style so full of trick, They even make a Merry Andrew sick; Thoughts all so dull, so pliant in their growth, They're verse, they're prose, they're neither, and they're both) Shall (though by nature ever both to praise) Thy curious worth set forth in curious phrase; 730 Obscurely stiff, shall press poor Sense to death, Or in long periods run her out of breath; Shall make a babe, for which, with all his fame, Adam could not have found a proper name, Whilst, beating out his features to a smile, He hugs the b.a.s.t.a.r.d brat, and calls it Style.
Hush'd be all Nature as the land of Death; Let each stream sleep, and each wind hold his breath; Be the bells m.u.f.fled, nor one sound of Care, Pressing for audience, wake the slumbering air; 740 Browne[294] comes--behold how cautiously he creeps-- How slow he walks, and yet how fast he sleeps-- But to thy praise in sleep he shall agree; He cannot wake, but he shall dream of thee.
Physic, her head with opiate poppies crown'd, Her loins by the chaste matron Camphire bound; Physic, obtaining succour from the pen Of her soft son, her gentle Heberden,[295]
If there are men who can thy virtue know, Yet spite of virtue treat thee as a foe, 750 Shall, like a scholar, stop their rebel breath, And in each recipe send cla.s.sic death.
So deep in knowledge, that few lines can sound And plumb the bottom of that vast profound, Few grave ones with such gravity can think, Or follow half so fast as he can sink; With nice distinctions glossing o'er the text, Obscure with meaning, and in words perplex'd, With subtleties on subtleties refined, Meant to divide and subdivide the mind, 760 Keeping the forwardness of youth in awe, The scowling Blackstone[296] bears the train of law.
Divinity, enrobed in college fur, In her right hand a new Court Calendar, Bound like a book of prayer, thy coming waits With all her pack, to hymn thee in the gates.
Loyalty, fix'd on Isis' alter'd sh.o.r.e, A stranger long, but stranger now no more, Shall pitch her tabernacle, and, with eyes Brimful of rapture, view her new allies; 770 Shall, with much pleasure and more wonder, view Men great at court, and great at Oxford too.
O sacred Loyalty! accursed be those Who, seeming friends, turn out thy deadliest foes, Who prost.i.tute to kings thy honour'd name, And soothe their pa.s.sions to betray their fame; Nor praised be those, to whose proud nature clings Contempt of government, and hate of kings, Who, willing to be free, not knowing how, A strange intemperance of zeal avow, 780 And start at Loyalty, as at a word Which without danger Freedom never heard.
Vain errors of vain men--wild both extremes, And to the state not wholesome, like the dreams, Children of night, of Indigestion bred, Which, Reason clouded, seize and turn the head; Loyalty without Freedom is a chain Which men of liberal notice can't sustain; And Freedom without Loyalty, a name Which nothing means, or means licentious shame. 790 Thine be the art, my Sandwich, thine the toil, In Oxford's stubborn and untoward soil To rear this plant of union, till at length, Rooted by time, and foster'd into strength, Shooting aloft, all danger it defies, And proudly lifts its branches to the skies; Whilst, Wisdom's happy son but not her slave, Gay with the gay, and with the grave ones grave, Free from the dull impertinence of thought, Beneath that shade, which thy own labours wrought 800 And fas.h.i.+on'd into strength, shalt thou repose, Secure of liberal praise, since Isis flows, True to her Tame, as duty hath decreed, Nor longer, like a harlot, l.u.s.t for Tweed, And those old wreaths, which Oxford once dared twine To grace a Stuart brow, she plants on thine.
Footnotes:
[276] 'Garrick abroad:' Garrick, in September 1763, in order to make his value more appreciated after his return, resolved to visit the continent.
[277] 'Langhorne:' John Langhorne, D.D., the translator of Plutarch.
[278] 'France:' Wilkes had fled to France to escape the prosecutions entered against him.
[279] 'Sneaking peer:' John Boyle, Earl of Cork and Orrery, was the author of severe 'Observations on the Life of Swift.'
[280] 'Bishop:' Bishop Warburton.
[281] 'Hayter:' Dr Thomas Hayter, Bishop of Norwich, and next of London, died prematurely.
[282] 'Wildman's:' a tavern in Albemarle Street.
[283] 'Almacks:' Old Almacks, a noted Tory club-house in Pall Mall.
[284] 'Youth was insolent:' the younger members of the University were unanimous in favour of Lord Hardwicke, and incurred the censure of their superiors.
[285] 'Burton:' Dr John Burton, head master of Winchester school.
[286] 'Smith:' Dr Smith, master of Trinity College, Cambridge, a mechanical and musical genius.
[287] 'Sumner:' the Rev. Dr Humphrey Sumner, Vice Chancellor of the University of Cambridge.
[288] 'Long:' Roger Long, D.D., professor of Astronomy, Cambridge.
[289] 'Sackville:' Sir George, who behaved scandalously at the battle of Minden.
[290] 'Brother Litchfield:' the last Earl of Litchfield succeeded the Earl of Westmoreland as Chancellor of the University of Oxford, in 1762, through Lord Bute's influence.
[291] 'Phillips:' Sir John Phillips, a barrister and active member of the House of Commons, a defender of the rebellion in 1745.
[292] 'Medenham:' or as it was commonly called, Mednam Abbey, was a very large house on the banks of the Thames, near Marlow, in Bucks, where infamous doings went on under the auspices of Sir F. Dashwood, Lord Sandwich, and others.
[293] 'King:' Dr William King, LL.D., Princ.i.p.al of St Mary's Hall.
[294] 'Browne:' Dr William Browne, Lord Litchfield's Vice-Chancellor of the University of Oxford from 1759 to 1769.
[295] 'Heberden:' Dr William Heberden, the celebrated physician, the first who used the wet-sheet.
[296] 'Blackstone:' Dr Blackstone, afterwards Sir William Blackstone, Solicitor-General, and a Judge of the Court of Common Pleas.
THE FAREWELL.