XX.

OCTOBER, 1803.

THESE times strike monied worldlings with dismay:

Even rich men, brave by nature, taint the air
With words of apprehension and despair :

While tens of thousands, thinking on the affray,
Men unto whom sufficient for the day

And minds not stinted or untilled are given,

Sound, healthy, children of the God of heaven,
Are cheerful as the rising sun in May.

What do we gather hence but firmer faith
That every gift of noble origin

Is breathed upon by Hope's perpetual breath;

That virtue and the faculties within

Are vital, and that riches are akin

To fear, to change, to cowardice, and death?

XXI.

ENGLAND! the time is come when thou should'st wean Thy heart from its emasculating food;

The truth should now be better understood;

Old things have been unsettled; we have seen

Fair seed-time, better harvest might have been
But for thy trespasses; and, at this day,

If for Greece, Egypt, India, Africa,

Aught good were destined, thou would'st step between.
England! all nations in this charge agree:

But worse, more ignorant in love and hate,
Far-far more abject, is thine Enemy:

Therefore the wise pray for thee, though the freight
Of thy offences be a heavy weight:

Oh grief that Earth's best hopes rest all with Thee!

XXII.

OCTOBER, 1803.

WHEN, looking on the present face of things,
I see one Man, of men the meanest too!
Raised up to sway the world, to do, undo,
With mighty Nations for his underlings,

The great events with which old story rings
Seem vain and hollow; I find nothing great :
Nothing is left which I can venerate ;

So that almost a doubt within me springs
Of Providence, such emptiness at length
Seems at the heart of all things. But, great God!
I measure back the steps which I have trod;
And tremble, seeing whence proceeds the strength
Of such poor Instruments, with thoughts sublime
I tremble at the sorrow of the time.

XXIII.

TO THE MEN OF KENT. OCTOBER, 1803.

VANGUARD of Liberty, ye men of Kent,

Ye children of a Soil that doth advance
Her haughty brow against the coast of France,
Now is the time to prove your hardiment!

To France be words of invitation sent!

They from their fields can see the countenance
Of your fierce war, may ken the glittering lance,
And hear you shouting forth your brave intent.
Left single, in bold parley, ye, of yore,
Did from the Norman win a gallant wreath;
Confirmed the charters that were yours before;—
No parleying now! In Britain is one breath;
We all are with you now from shore to shore :-
Ye men of Kent, 'tis victory or death!

XXIV.

WHAT if our numbers barely could defy
The arithmetic of babes, must foreign hordes,
Slaves, vile as ever were befooled by words,
Striking through English breasts the anarchy
Of Terror, bear us to the ground, and tie
Our hands behind our backs with felon cords?
Yields every thing to discipline of swords?
Is man as good as man, none low, none high?
Nor discipline nor valour can withstand
The shock, nor quell the inevitable rout,
When in some great extremity breaks out
A people, on their own beloved Land
Risen, like one man, to combat in the sight
Of a just God for liberty and right.