  ODE TO JACOBINISM.March 26, 1798. I. Daughter of Hell, insatiate power, Destroyer of the human race, Whose iron scourge and madd’ning hour Exalt the bad, the good debase; Thy mystic force, despotic sway, Courage and innocence dismay, And patriot monarchs vainly groan With pangs unfelt before, unpitied and alone! II. When first to scourge the sons of earth, Thy sire his darling child design’d, Gallia receiv’d the monstrous birth— Voltaire inform’d thy infant mind; Well-chosen nurse! his sophist lore He bade thee many a year explore! He mark’d thy progress, firm though slow, And statesmen, princes, leagued with their invet’rate foe. III. Scared at thy frown terrific, fly The morals (antiquated brood); Domestic Virtue, social Joy, And Faith that has for ages stood: Swift they disperse, and with them go The friend sincere, the gen’rous foe.— By thee now rais’d aloft, now crush’d beneath the crowd. IV. Revenge, in blood-stain’d robe arrayed, Immersed in gloomy joy profound; Ingratitude, by guilt dismay’d, With anxious eye wild glancing round, Still on thy frantic steps attend: With Death, thy victim’s only friend, Injustice, to the truth severe, And Anguish, dropping still the life-consuming tear. V. Oh swiftly on my country’s head, Destroyer, lay thy ruthless hand; Nor yet in Gallic terrors clad, Nor circled by the Marseilles band, (As by th’ initiate thou art seen), With thund’ring cannon, guillotine, With screaming Horror’s funeral cry, Fire, Rapine, sword, and chains, and ghastly Poverty. VI. Thy sophist veil, dread goddess, wear, Falsehood insidiously impart; Thy philosophic train, be there, To taint the mind, corrupt the heart; The gen’rous virtues of our isle, Teach us to hate and to revile; Our glorious Charter’s faults to scan, Time-sanction’d truths despise, and preach thy Rights of Man. An English Jacobin. HYMN TO ADVERSITY. BY THOMAS GRAY. Daughter of Jove, relentless power, Thou tamer of the human breast, Whose iron scourge, and torturing hour, The bad affright, afflict the best! Bound in thy adamantine chain, The proud are taught to taste of pain, And purple tyrants vainly groan, With pangs unfelt before, unpitied and alone. When first thy sire to send on earth Virtue, his darling child, designed, To thee he gave the heavenly birth, And bade thee form her infant mind, Stern, rugged nurse! thy rigid lore With patience many a year she bore: What sorrow was, thou bad’st her know, And from her own she learnt to melt at others’ woe. Scared at thy frown terrific, fly Self-pleasing Folly’s idle brood, Wild Laughter, Noise, and thoughtless Joy, And leave us leisure to be good. Light they disperse, and with them go The summer friend, the flattering foe; By vain prosperity received, To her they vow their truth, and are again believed. Wisdom, in sable garb arrayed, Immersed in rapturous thought profound, And Melancholy, silent maid, With leaden eye that loves the ground, Still on thy solemn steps attend: Warm Charity, the general friend, With Justice, to herself severe, And Pity, dropping soft the sadly-pleasing tear. O, gently on thy suppliant’s head, Dread goddess, lay thy chastening hand! Not in thy Gorgon terrors clad, Nor circled with the vengeful band With thundering voice, and threatening mien, With screaming Horror’s funeral cry, Despair, and fell Disease, and ghastly Poverty. Thy form benign, O goddess! wear, Thy milder influence impart, Thy philosophic train be there, To soften not to wound my heart. The generous spark extinct revive; Teach me to love and to forgive; Exact my own defects to scan, What others are, to feel, and know myself a man.—Ed.] |
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