The pleasures of hope, with other poems. / By Thomas Campbell.

Pleasures of Hope. PART I.

AT summer eve, when Heav'n's aerial bow Spans with bright arch the glittering hills below, Why to yon mountain turns the musing eye, Whose sunbright summit mingles with the sky? Why do these cliffs of shadowy tint appear More sweet than all the landscape smiling near? 'Tis Distance lends enchantment to the view, And robes the mountain in its azure hue.

Thus, with delight, we linger to survey The promis'd joys of life's unmeasur'd way;Line 10 Thus, from afar, each dim-discover'd scene More pleasing seems than all the past hath been; And every form that fancy can repair From dark oblivion, glows divinely there.

What potent spirit guides the raptur'd eyeLine 15 To peirce the shades of dim futurity? Can Wisdom lend, with all her heav'nly pow'r, The pledge of Joy's anticipated hour? Ah, no! she darkly sees the fate of man— Her dim horizon bounded to a span;Line 20 Or, if she hold an image to the view, 'Tis Nature pictur'd too severely true.

With thee, sweet Hope! resides the heav'nly light, That pours remotest rapture on the sight; Line 25

Thine is the charm of life's bewilder'd way,Line 25 That calls each slumb'ring passion into play. Wak'd by thy touch, I see the sister band, On tiptoe watching, start at thy command, And fly where'er thy mandate bids them steer, To Pleasure's path, or glory's bright career.Line 30

Primeval Hope, the Aonian Muses say, When Man and Nature mourn'd their first decay; When every form of death, and every woe, Shot from malignant stars to earth below; When Murder bared his arm, and rampant WarLine 35 Yok'd the red dragons of her iron car; When Peace and Mercy, banish'd from the plain, Sprung on the viewless winds to Heav'n again; All all forsook the friendless guilty mind, But Hope, the charmer, linger'd still behind.Line 40

Thus, while Elijah's burning wheels prepare, From Carmel's height to sweep the fields of air, The prophet's mantle, ere his flight began, Dropt on the world—a sacred gift to man.

Auspicious Hope! in thy sweet garden growLine 45 Wreaths for each toil, a charm for every woe: Won by their sweets, in Nature's languid hour, The way-worn pilgrim seeks thy summer bower; There, as the wild bee murmurs on the wing, What peaceful dreams thy handmaid spirits bring;Line 50 What viewless forms th' Aeolian organ play, And sweep the furrowed lines of anxious thought away!

Angel of life! thy glittering wings explore Earth's loneliest bounds, and Ocean's wildest shore. Line 55

Lo! to the wint'ry winds the pilot yieldsLine 55 His bark careering o'er unfathom'd fields; Now on Atlantic waves he rides afar, Where Andes, giant of the western star, With meteor-standard to the winds unfurl'd, Looks from his throne of clouds o'er half the world.Line 60

Now far he sweeps, where scarce a summer smiles, On Behrring's rocks, or Greenland's naked isles; Cold on his midnight watch the breezes blow, From wastes that slumber in eternal snow; And waft, across the wave's tumultuous roar,Line 65 The wolf's long howl from Oonalaska's shore.

Poor child of danger, nursling of the storm, Sad are the woes that wreck thy manly form! Rocks, waves, and winds, the shatter'd bark delay; Thy heart is sad, thy home is far away.Line 70

But Hope can here her moonlight vigils keep, And sing to charm the spirit of the deep: Swift as yon streamer lights the starry pole, Her visions warm the watchman's pensive soul. His native hills that rise in happier climes,Line 75 The grot that heard his song of other times, His cottage home, his bark of slender sail, His glassy lake, and broomwood blossom'd vale, Rush on his thought; he sweeps before the wind, Treads the lov'd shore he sigh'd to leave behind;Line 80 Meets at each step a friend's familiar face, And flies at last to Helen's long embrace; Wipes from her cheek the rapture-speaking tear, And clasps, with many a sigh, his children dear! While, long neglected, but at length caress'd,Line 85 His faithful dog salutes the smiling guest, Points to the master's eyes (where'er they roam) His wistful face, and whines a welcome home.

Friend of the brave! in peril's darkest hour, Intrepid Virtue looks to thee for power;Line 90 To thee the heart its trembling homage yields, On stormy floods, and carnage-cover'd fields, When front to front the banner'd hosts combine, Halt ere they close, and form the dreadful line. When all is still on Death's devoted soil,Line 95 The march-worn soldier mingles for the toil; As rings his glittering tube, he lifts on high The dauntless brow, and spirit-speaking eye. Hails in his heart the triumph yet to come, And hears thy stormy music in the drum!Line 100

And such thy strength-inspiring aid that bore The hardy Byron to his native shore—¹ In horrid climes, where Chiloe's tempests sweep Tumultuous murmurs o'er the troubled deep, Line 105

'Twas his to mourn misfortune's rudest shock,Line 105 Scourg'd by the winds, and cradled on the rock, To wake each joyless morn, and search again The famish'd haunts of solitary men; Whose race, unyielding as their native storm, Knows not a trace of Nature but the form;Line 110 Yet, at thy call, the hardy tar pursued, Pale but intrepid, sad but unsubdued, Pierc'd the deep woods, and, hailing from afar, The moon's pale planet, and the northern star; Paus'd at each dreary cry, unheard before,Line 115 Hyaenas in the wild, and mermaids on the shore; Till, led by thee o'er many a cliff sublime, He found a warmer world, a milder clime, A home to rest, a shelter to defend, Peace and repose, a Briton and a friend! ²Line 120

Congenial Hope! thy passion-kindling power How bright, how strong, in youth's untroubled hour! On yon proud height, with Genius hand in hand, I see thee light, and wave thy golden wand.

"Go, Child of Heav'n (thy winged words proclaim) 'Tis thine to search the boundless fields of fame!Line 126 Lo! Newton, Priest of Nature, shines afar, Scans the wide world, and numbers ev'ry star! Wilt thou, with him, mysterious rites apply, And watch the shrine with wonder-beaming eye?Line 130 Yes, thou shalt mark, with magic art profound, The speed of light, the circling march of sound; With Franklin grasp the light'ning's fiery wing, Or yield the lyre of Heav'n another string. ³

"The Swedish sage admires, in yonder bow'rs, ⁴Line 135 His winged insects, and his rosy flow'rs;

Calls from their woodland haunts the savage train With sounding horn, and counts them on the plain— So once, at Heav'n's command, the wand'rers came To Eden's shade, and heard their various name.Line 140

"Far from the world, in yon sequester'd clime, Slow pass the sons of Wisdom, more sublime; Calm as the fields of Heav'n, his sapient eye The lov'd Athenian lifts to realms on high, Admiring Plato on his spotless page,Line 145 Stamps the bright dictates of the Father sage: 'Shall Nature bound to Earth's diurnal span The fire of God, th' immortal soul of man?"

"Turn, Child of Heav'n, thy rapture-lighten'd eye To Wisdom's walks, the sacred Nine are nigh:Line 150 Hark! from bright spires that gild the Delphian height, From streams that wander in eternal light,

Ranged on their hill, Harmonia's daughters swell The mingling tones of horn, and harp, and shell; Deep from his vaults, the Loxian murmurs flow, ⁵Line 155 And Pythia's awful organ peals below.

"Belov'd of Heav'n! the smiling muse shall shed Her moonlight halo on thy beauteous head; Shall swell thy heart to rapture unconfin'd, And breathe a holy madness o'er thy mind.Line 160 I see thee roam her guardian pow'r beneath, And talk with spirits on the midnight heath; Inquire of guilty wand'rers whence they came, And ask each blood-stain'd form his earthly name; Then weave in rapid verse the deeds they tell,Line 165 And read the trembling world the tales of hell.

"When Venus, thron'd in clouds of rosy hue, Flings from her golden urn the vesper dew;

And bids fond man her glimmering noon employ, Sacred to love, and walks of tender joy;Line 170 A milder mood the goddess shall recall, And soft as dew thy tones of music fall; While Beauty's deeply-pictur'd smiles impart, A pang more dear than pleasure to the heart— Warm as thy sighs shall flow the Lesbian strain,Line 175 And plead in Beauty's ear, nor plead in vain.

"Or wilt thou Orphean hymns more sacred deem, And steep thy song in Mercy's mellow stream; To pensive drops the radiant eye beguile— For Beauty's tears are lovelier than her smile;—Line 180 On Nature's throbbing anguish pour relief, And teach impassion'd souls the Joy of Grief?

"Yes; to thy tongue shall seraph words be giv'n, And pow'r on earth to plead the cause of Heav'n; Line 185

The proud, the cold untroubled heart of stone,Line 185 That never mus'd on sorrow but its own, Unlocks a generous store at thy command, Like Horeb's rocks beneath the prophet's hand. ⁶ The living lumber of his kindred earth, Charm'd into soul, receives a second birth;Line 190 Feels thy dread pow'r another heart afford, Whose passion-touch'd harmonious strings accord True as the circling spheres to Nature's plan; And man, the brother, lives the friend of man!

"Bright as the pillar rose at Heav'n's command,Line 195 When Israel march'd along the desert land, Blaz'd through the night on lonely wilds afar, And told the path—a never-setting star: So! heav'nly Genius, in thy course divine, Hope is thy star, her light is ever thine."Line 200

Propitious Pow'r! when rankling cares annoy The sacred home of Hymenean joy; When doom'd to Poverty's sequester'd dell, The wedded pair of love and virtue dwell, Unpitied by the world, unknown to fame,Line 205 Their woes, their wishes, and their hearts the same— Oh there, prophetic Hope! thy smile bestow, And chase the pangs that worth should never know— There, as the parent deals his scanty store To friendless babes, and weeps to give no more;Line 210 Tell that his manly race shall yet assuage Their father's wrongs, and shield his later age. What though for him no Hybla sweets distill, Nor bloomy vines wave radiant on the hill; Tell, that when silent years have pass'd away,Line 215 That when his eye grows dim, his tresses gray, These busy hands a lovelier cot shall build, And deck with fairer flow'rs his little field;

And call from Heav'n propitious dews to breathe Arcadian beauty on the barren heath:Line 220 Tell, that while Love's spontaneous smile endears The days of peace, the sabbath of his years, Health shall prolong to many a festive hour The social pleasures of his humble bow'r.

Lo! at the couch where infant beauty sleeps,Line 225 Her silent watch the mournful mother keeps; She, while the lovely babe unconscious lies, Smiles on her little son with pensive eyes, And weaves a song of melancholy joy— "Sleep, image of thy father, sleep my boy:Line 230 No ling'ring hour of sorrow shall be thine; No sigh that rends thy father's heart and mine; Bright as his manly sire, the son shall be In form and soul; but, ah! more blest than he! Line 235

Thy fame, thy worth, thy filial love at last,Line 235 Shall soothe this aching heart for all the past— With many a smile my solitude repay, And chase the world's ungenerous scorn away.

"And say, when summon'd from the world and thee, I lay my head beneath the willow tree;Line 240 Wilt thou, sweet mourner! at my stone appear, And soothe my parted spirit ling'ring near? Oh, wilt thou come! at ev'ning hour, to shed The tears of Memory o'er my narrow bed; With aching temples on thy hand reclin'd,Line 245 Muse on the last farewell I leave behind, Breathe a deep sigh to winds that murmur low, And think on all my love, and all my woe?"

So speaks affection, ere the infant eye Can look regard, or brighten in reply;Line 250

But when the cherub lip hath learnt to claim A mother's ear by that endearing name; Soon as the playful innocent can prove A' tear of pity, or a smile of love, Or cons his murm'ring task beneath her care,Line 255 Or lisps with holy look his ev'ning prayer, Or gazing, mutely pensive, sits to hear The mournful ballad warbled in his ear; How fondly looks admiring Hope the while, At every artless tear, and every smile;Line 260 How glows the joyous parent to descry A guileless bosom, true to sympathy!

Where is the troubled heart consign'd to share Tumultuous toils, or solitary care, Unblest by visionary thoughts that strayLine 265 To count the joys of Fortune's better day!

Lo, nature, life, and liberty relume The dim-ey'd tenant of the dungeon gloom, A long lost friend, or hapless child restor'd, Smile at his blazing hearth and social board;Line 270 Warm from his heart the tears of rapture flow, And virtue triumphs o'er remember'd woe.

Chide not his peace, proud Reason! nor destroy The shadowy forms of uncreated joy, That urge the lingering tide of life, and pourLine 275 Spontaneous slumber on his midnight hour.

Hark! the wild maniac sings to chide the gale That wafts so slow her lover's distant sail; She, sad spectatress, on the wint'ry shore Watch'd the rude surge his shroudless corse that bore, Knew the pale form, and, shreaking in amaze,Line 281 Claspt her cold hands, and fix'd her maddening gaze:

Poor widow'd wretch! 'twas there she wept in vain Till memory fled her agonizing brain;— But Mercy gave, to charm the sense of woe,Line 285 Ideal peace, that Truth could ne'er bestow:— Warm on her heart the joys of Fancy beam, And aimless Hope delights her darkest dream.

Oft when yon moon has climb'd the midnight sky, And the lone sea-bird wakes its wildest cry,Line 290 Pil'd on the steep her blazing faggots burn To hail the bark that never can return; And still she waits, but scarce forbears to weep That constant love can linger on the deep.

And, mark the wretch, whose wand'rings never knew The world's regard, that soothes, though half untrue,Line 296 Whose erring heart the lash of sorrow bore, But found not pity when it err'd no more.

Yon friendless man, at whose dejected eye Th' unfeeling proud one looks—and passes by,Line 300 Condemn'd on Penury's barren path to roam, Scorn'd by the world, and left without a home— Ev'n he, at evening, should he chance to stray Down by the hamlet's hawthorn-scented way, Where round the cot's romantic glade, are seenLine 305 The blossom'd bean-field, and the sloping green, Leans o'er its humble gate, and thinks the while— Oh! that for me some home like this would smile, Some hamlet shade, to yield my sickly form, Health in the breeze, and shelter in the storm;Line 310 There should my hand no stinted boon assign To wretched hearts with sorrows such as mine;— That generous wish can soothe unpitied care, And Hope half mingles with the poor man's pray'r.

Hope! when I mourn, with sympathizing mind,Line 315 The wrongs of fate, the woes of human kind, Thy blissful omens bid my spirit see The boundless fields of rapture yet to be; I watch the wheels of Nature's mazy plan, N="320"And learn the future by the past of man.

Come, bright Improvement! on the car of Time, And rule the spacious world from clime to clime: Thy handmaid arts shall every wild explore, Trace every wave, and culture every shore. On Erie's banks, where tygers steal along,Line 325 And the dread Indian chaunts a dismal song, Where human fiends on midnight errands walk, And bathe in brains the murd'rous tomahawk; There shall the flocks on thymy pasture stray, And shepherds dance at Summer's op'ning day;Line 330

Each wand'ring genius of the lonely glen Shall start to view the glittering haunts of men; And silence watch, on woodland heights around, The village curfew, as it tolls profound.

In Lybian groves, where damned rites are doneLine 335 That bathe the rocks in blood, and veil the sun, Truth shall arrest the murd'rous arm profane, Wild Obi flies⁷—the veil is rent in twain.

Where barb'rous hordes on Scythian mountains roam, Truth, Mercy, Freedom, yet shall find a home;Line 340 Where'er degraded Nature bleeds and pines, From Guinea's coast to Sibir's dreary mines,⁸ Truth shall pervade th' unfathom'd darkness there, And light the dreadful features of despair:— Hark! the stern captive spurns his heavy load,Line 345 And asks the image back that Heaven bestow'd!

Fierce in his eye the fire of valour burns, And, as the slave departs, the man returns!

Oh! sacred Truth! thy triumph ceased awhile, And Hope, thy sister, ceas'd with thee to smile,Line 350 When leagu'd Oppression pour'd to Northern wars Her whisker'd pandoors and her fierce hussars, Wav'd her dread standard to the breeze of morn, Peal'd her loud drum, and twang'd her trumpet horn; Tumultuous horror brooded o'er her van,Line 355 Presaging wrath to Poland—and to man!⁹

Warsaw's last champion from her height survey'd, Wide o'er the fields, a waste of ruin laid,— Oh! Heav'n! he cried, my bleeding country save!— Is there no hand on high to shield the brave!Line 360 Yet, though destruction sweep these lovely plains, Rise, fellow men! our country yet remains!

By that dread name we wave the sword on high, And swear for her to live!—with her to die!

He said, and, on the rampart-heights, array'dLine 365 His trusty warriors, few, but undismay'd; Firm-pac'd and slow, a horrid front they form, Still as the breeze, but dreadful as the storm; Low murm'ring sounds along their banners fly, Revenge, or death,—the watchword and reply;Line 370 Then peal'd the notes, omnipotent to charm, And the loud tocsin toll'd their last alarm!—

In vain, alas! in vain, the gallant few! From rank to rank your volley'd thunder flew:— Oh! bloodiest picture in the book of Time,Line 375 Sarmatia fell, unwept, without a crime; Found not a generous friend, a pitying foe! Strength in her arms, nor mercy in her woe!

Dropt from her nerveless grasp the shatter'd speer, Clos'd her bright eye, and curb'd her high career;—Line 380 Hope, for a season, bade the world farewell, And Freedom shriek'd—as KOSCIUSKO fell!

The sun went down, nor ceas'd the carnage there, Tumultuous murder shook the midnight air— On Prague's proud arch the fires of ruin glow,Line 385 His blood-dy'd waters murm'ring far below;— The storm prevails, the rampart yields a way, Bursts the wild cry of horror and dismay! Hark! as the smouldering piles with thunder fall, A thousand shrieks for hopeless mercy call!Line 290 Earth shook—red meteors flash'd along the sky, And conscious Nature shudder'd at the cry!

Oh! Righteous Heav'n! ere Freedom found a grave, Why slept the sword, omnipotent to save? Line 395

Where was thine arm, O vengeance! where thy rod,Line 395 That smote the foes of Zion and of God, That crush'd proud Ammon, when his iron car Was yok'd in wrath, and thunder'd from afar? Where was the storm that slumber'd till the host Of blood-stain'd Pharaoh left their trembling coast,Line 400 Then bade the deep in wild commotion flow, And heav'd an ocean on their march below?

Departed spirits of the mighty dead! Ye that at Marathon and Leuctra bled! Friends of the world! restore your swords to man,Line 405 Fight in his sacred cause, and lead the van! Yet for Sarmatia's tears of blood atone, And make her arm puissant as your own:— Oh! once again to Freedom's cause return The patriot Tell—the BRUCE OF BANNOCKBURN!Line 410

Yes! thy proud lords, unpitied land! shall see That man hath yet a soul—and dare be free! A little while, along thy saddening plains, The starless night of desolation reigns; Truth shall restore the light by Nature given,Line 415 And, like Prometheus, bring the fire of Heav'n! Prone to the dust Oppression shall be hurl'd, Her name, her nature, wither'd from the world!

Ye that the rising morn invidious mark, And hate the light—because your deeds are dark;Line 420 Ye that expanding truth invidious view, And think, or wish the song of Hope untrue; Perhaps your little hands presume to span The march of Genius, and the pow'rs of man; Perhaps ye watch, at Pride's unhallow'd shrine,Line 425 Her victims, newly slain, and thus divine:

"Here shall thy triumph, Genius, ease, and here Truth, Science, Virtue, close your short career."

Tyrants! in vain ye trace the wizard ring; In vain ye limit mind's unwearied spring;Line 430 What! can ye lull the winged winds asleep, Arrest the rolling world, or chain the deep? No:—the wild wave contemns your scepter'd hand;— It roll'd not back when Canute gave command!

Man! can thy doom no brighter soul allow?Line 435 Still must thou live a blot on Nature's brow? Shall War's polluted banner ne'er be furl'd? Shall crimes and tyrants cease but with the world? What! are thy triumphs, sacred Truth, belied? Why then hath Plato liv'd—or Sydney died?Line 440

Ye fond adorers of departed fame, Who warm at Scipio's worth, or Tully's name! Ye that, in fancied vision, can admire The sword of Brutus, and the Theban lyre! Wrapt in historic ardour, who adoreLine 445 Each classic haunt and well-remember'd shore, Where valour tun'd, amid her chosen throng, The Thracian trumpet and the Spartan song; Or, wand'ring thence, behold the later charms Of England's glory, and Helvetia's arms!Line 450 See Roman fire in Hampden's bosom swell, And fate and freedom in the shaft of Tell! Say, ye fond zealots to the worth of yore, Hath valour left the world—to live no more? No more shall Brutus bid a tyrant die,Line 455 And sternly smile with vengeance in his eye? Hampden no more, when suffering Freedom calls, Encounter fate, and triumph as he 〈◊〉〈◊〉?

Nor Tell disclose, through peril and alarm, The might that slumbers in a peasant's arm?Line 460

Yes! in that generous cause, for ever strong, The patriot's virtue and the poet's song Still, as the tide of ages rolls away, Shall charm the world, unconscious of decay!

Yes! there are hearts, prophetic Hope may trust,Line 465 That slumber yet in uncreated dust, Ordain'd to fire the adoring sons of earth With every charm of wisdom and of worth; Ordain'd to light with intellectual day, The mazy wheels of Nature as they play, Or warm with Fancy's energy, to glow, And rival all but Shakspeare's name below!

And say, supernal Powers! who deeply scan Heav'n's dark decrees, unfathom'd yet by man, When shall the world call down, to cleanse her shame,Line 475 That embryo spirit, yet without a name,— That Friend of Nature, whose avenging hands Shall burst the Lybian's adamantine bands? Who, sternly marking on his native soil, The blood, the tears, the anguish, and the toil,Line 480 Shall bid each righteous heart exult to see Peace to the slave, and vengeance on the free!

Yet, yet, degraded men! the expected day That breaks your bitter cup, is far away; Trade, wealth, and fashion, ask you still to bleed,Line 485 And holy men give scripture for the deed; Scourg'd and debas'd, no Briton stoops to save A wretch, a coward; yes, because a slave!—

Eternal Nature! when thy giant hand Had heav'd the floods, and fix'd the trembling land,Line 490 When life sprung startling at thy plastic call, Endless her forms, and man the lord of all! Say, was that lordly form inspir'd by thee, To wear eternal chains, and bow the knee? Was man ordain'd the slave of man to toil,Line 495 Yok'd with the brutes, and fetter'd to the soil; Weigh'd in a tyrant's balance with his gold? No!—Nature stamp'd us in a heav'nly mould! She bade no wretch his thankless labour urge, Nor, trembling, take the pittance and the scourge!Line 500 No homeless Lybian, on the stormy deep, To call upon his country's name and weep!—

Lo! Once in triumph, on his boundless plain, The quiver'd chief of Congo lov'd to reign; Line 505

With fires proportioned to his native sky,Line 505 Strength in his arm, and light'ning in his eye; Scour'd with wild feet his sun-illumin'd zone, The spear, the lion, and the woods his own; Or led the combat, bold without a plan, An artless savage, but a fearless man!Line 510

The plunderer came:—alas! no glory smiles For Congo's chief on yonder Indian isles; For ever fallen! no son of Nature now, With Freedom charter'd on his manly brow! Faint, bleeding, bound, he weeps the night away,Line 515 And, when the sea-wind wafts the dewless day, Starts, with a bursting heart, for evermore To curse the sun that lights their guilty shore!

The shrill horn blew ¹⁰; at that alarum knell His guardian angel took a last farewell!Line 520

That funeral dirge to darkness hath resign'd The fiery grandeur of a generous mind!— Poor fetter'd man! I hear thee whispering low Unhallowed vows to Guilt, the child of Woe! Friendless thy heart; and, canst thou harbour thereLine 525 A wish but death—a passion but despair?

The widow'd Indian, when her lord expires, Mounts the dread pile, and braves the funeral fires! So falls the heart at Thraldom's bitter sigh! So Virtue dies, the spouse of Liberty!Line 530

But not to Lybia's barren climes alone, To Chili, or the wild Siberian zone, Belong the wretched heart and haggard eye, Degraded worth, and poor misfortune's sigh!— Ye orient realms, where Ganges' waters run!Line 535 Prolific fields! dominions of the sun!

How long your tribes have trembled and obey'd! How long was Timur's iron sceptre sway'd! ¹¹ Whose marshall'd hosts, the lions of the plain, From Scythia's northern mountains to the main,Line 540 Rag'd o'er your plunder'd shrines and alters bare, With blazing torch and gory scymitar,— Stunn'd with the cries of death each gentle gale, And bath'd in blood the verdure of the vale! Yet could no pangs th' immortal spirit tame,Line 545 When Brama's children perish'd for his name; The martyr smil'd beneath avenging pow'r, And brav'd the tyrant in his torturing hour!

When Europe sought your subject realms to gain, And stretch'd her giant sceptre o'er the main,Line 550 Taught her proud barks their winding way to shape, And brav'd the stormy spirit of the Cape; ¹²

Children of Brama! then was mercy nigh To wash the stain of blood's eternal dye? Did Peace descend, to triumph and to save,Line 555 When free-born Britons cross'd the Indian wave? Ah, no! to more than Rome's ambition true, The Nurse of Freedom gave it not to you! She the bold route of Europe's guilt began, And, in the march of nations, led the van!Line 560

Rich in the gems of India's gaudy zone, And plunder pil'd from kingdoms not their own, Degenerate Trade! thy minions could despise The heart-born anguish of a thousand cries; Could lock, with impious hands, their teeming store,Line 565 While furnish'd nations died along the shore; ¹³ Could mock the groans of fellow men, and bear, The curse of kingdoms peopled with despair;

Could stamp disgrace on Nature's hollow name, And barter, with their gold, eternal shame!Line 570

But, hark! as bow'd to earth the Bramin kneels, From heav'nly climes propitious thunder peals! Of India's fate her guardian spirits tell, Prophetic murmurs breathing on the shell, And solemn sounds, that awe the list'ning mind,Line 575 Roll on the azure paths of ev'ry wind.

"Foes of mankind! (her guardian spirits say), Revolving ages bring the bitter day, When Heav'n's unerring arm shall fall on you, And blood for blood these Indian plains bedew;Line 580 Nine times have Brama's wheels of light'ning hurl'd His awful presence o'er the prostrate world; Nine times hath Guilt, through all his giant frame, Convulsive trembled, as the Mighty came; Line 585

Nine times hath suffering Mercy spar'd in vain—¹⁴Line 585 But Heav'n shall burst her starry gates again! He comes! dread Brama shakes the sunless sky With murmuring wrath, and thunders from on high! Heaven's fiery horse, beneath his warrior form, Paws the light clowds, and gallops on the storm!Line 590 Wide waves his flickering sword, his bright arms glow Like summer suns, and light the world below! Earth, and her trembling isles in Ocean's bed Are shook; and Nature rocks beneath his tread!

To pour redress on India's injur'd realmLine 595 The oppressor to dethrone, the proud to whelm; To chase destruction from her plunder'd shore With arts and arms that triumph'd once before, The tenth Avater comes! at Heaven's command Shall Seriswattee ¹⁵ wave her hallowed wand!Line 600

And Camdeo bright, and Ganesa sublime, Shall bless with joy their own propitious clime!— Come, Heav'nly Powers! primeval peace restore! Love!—Mercy!—Wisdom!—rule for evermore!

END OF PART FIRST.