IN Northern Hights, where Nature seldom smiles,
Embrac'd with Scas, and buttress't round with Isles,
Where lofty Shores regard th' adjacent Pole,
Where Winds incessant blow, and Waves incessant roll;
Where Tyrant Cold in Glacy Ocean reigns,
And all the Habitable World disdains,
Defies the distant Influence of the Sun,
And shines in Ice.
First youngest Sister to the Frozen Zone,
Batter'd by Parent Natures constant Frown•
Adapt to Hardships, and cut out for Toil;
The best worst Climate, and the worst best Soil.
A rough, unhewn, uncultivated Spot,
Of old so fam'd, and so of late forgot.
NEGLECTED SCOTLAND shews her awful Brow,
Not always quite so near to Heaven as now.
Circled with dreadful Clifts and Barb'rous Shores,
Where the strong Surff with high impetuous Roars,
Invades the Rocks, and these their Rage disdain,
And with redoubling Noise they'r hurry'd home again;
The hollow Caverns Mutual Roars return,
And Baffled Neptune raging makes the Ocean burn.
The furious Elements in vain contend,
Unmov'd the mighty natural Breast-works stand.
Their awful Hights in threatning Grandeur shine,
Emblems of mightier Hearts of Stone within.
Th' Instructing Rocks, Invincible and Strong,
Describe the Race that to these Rocks belong,
And bid the quick retreating Waves declare,
And warn the World against a Northern War•
Tell them the Hopes of Conquest must be vain;
When Hands of Steel shall Rocks of Flint maintain.
These are th' eternal Bounds of Providence,
The Oceans Bridle, and the Lands Defence.
The Warts and Wrinkles plac'd on Natures Brow
That her Maternal Care and Conduct show.
The meanest parts of Nature have their Use,
And some to Terror, some to Strength conduce:
Nor is their Ornament at all the less;
For Beauty's best describ'd by Usefulness.
Behind this Rugged Front securely lies
Blest Caledonia, and with Ease defies
Her Northern, or her Southern Enemies.
Fixt by Decree, Her Nature's not to fear
Huge Navies there, or Icy Mountains here.
Here Towring Clifts, and there the Beachy Shoal
Defy the Raging Monsters of the Pole.
There equally they Floating Worlds defy,
Bid them stand off and live, advance and die:
The Hardy Wretch that sees the Hint too late,
Fails not to find his Folly in his Fate.
Behind this Rugged Front securely lies
Old Caledonia, all the Worlds Surprize.
Her Native Beauty and her Wealth conceal'd
Waits the blest Hour when both shall be reveal'd.
In Age and Fancy'd Poverty Secure,
And yet She's ever Young, and never Poor.
Here labouring with the Injuries of Time•
Inclement Air, Inhospitable Clime,
Foreign Invasions and Intestine Wars;
Yet all her Native Beauty still appears.
Brittain's Left hand, which when she shall unite,
As Nature dictates, and the Fates Invite,
And join her younger Sister on the Right:
How shall they Mutual Wealth and Strength convey,
And with Contempt the weaker World Survey!
Till THAT BLEST HOUR, how does her Injur'd Name
Sleep in the Rubbish of her Ancient Fame?
Buried in Slander, by Reproach laid low:
And all the distant World believes her so:
Then let us first survey her Fancy'd Herse,
She'll find some Resurrection in our Verse;
Till rousing from a long declining Fate,
WHOLE BRITTAIN shall her Glory reinstate.
How have we plac'd her out of Nature's Eye,
Where Constant Colds Few Seeds of Life supply?
Where Nature Chill'd some despicables dwell,
Immur'd with Darkness and ally'd to Hell.
No Moderate Blessings, no Endowment share,
Nothing that's Pleasant see, nothing delightful hear:
But see the Horrid Bear march round the Pole,
And feel her Piercing Breath Congeal the Soul.
Their Musick's Whirl-wind, and the shrill Echoing Roar
Of Frozen Seas on the Deserted Shore.
Legends of Fables fill our partial Heads,
Of Lands where Grass ne'r grows, or Mortal treads;
Where keenest Winds and Storms Incessant blow
On Mountains cover'd with Eternal Snow;
Where Nature never blooms, and Sun ne'r shines,
But Cold with Cold, and Frost with Frost Combines,
What Countrey's this? And whither are we gone?
Bright Caledonia, where will Fable run?
Suffer th' impartial Pen to range thy Shore,
And do thee Justice, Nature asks no more:
Fitted for Commerce and cut out for Trade;
The Seas the Land, the Land the Seas invade.
The Promontory Clifts with Hights embosst,
And large deep Bays adorn thy dang'rous Coast;
Alternately the Pilot's true Relief,
These warn at Distance, those receive him safe;
The deep indented Harbours then invite,
First court by day, and then secure at night:
The wearied Sailors safe and true Recess,
A full Amends for wild Tempestuous Seas.
Nature that well foreknows a Nations Fate,
Thus fitted Caledonia to be great.
Her various Aspects the Design explain,
And Circumstances shall resist in vain.
Subject no more to ev'ry cross Event,
She shall be Great and Rich, as Nature meant.
View next her Seas, from ancient Terrors nam'd,
For Bug-bear Storms, by Bug-bear Sailors fam'd.
Phenician Sailors, wise in Ignorance,
That dream't of THULE, yet afraid t'advance;
Thy lengthen'd Sun with uncooth Joy survey,
And vainly dream'd it led to bright Eternal Day:
Unbless'd with Art, yet from thy Ocean fly,
Afraid to live, because afraid to die.
To them thy Wealth and Stores were unreveal'd,
And all beyond thee happily conceal'd.
Had they thy Scally Shoals of Blessings known,
They'd long since chose thy Shores, and quite sorgot their own.
Thine had been India, and thy Golden Seas
Had fill'd their Antique Songs.
But Fear, that Negative of Glory, gave
This Gift appropriat to a Race more brave.
The frighted South-taught Navigators fly,
And mock'd with Fear, their own Success destroy.
Unpractis'd in thy watry Wars, they shun
Thy safer Coast, and at a Distance run.
Thy Seas, tho vast, and in Extent unknown,
In Wealth and Strength to Thee subservient grown.
Calm Tides, smooth Surface, and a shining Brow,
And gentle Gales for Wealth and Commerce blow.
These reconcile the once so dreadful Waste,
And Art and Industry supply the rest.
Hail Science, Natures second Eye,
Begot on Reason by Philosophy,
Mans Tellescope to all that's Deep and High;
What Infinites dost thou pursue!
The Tangl'd Skeines of Nature how undo!
Pierce all her darkest Clouds, her Knots untye,
And leave her naked to the wandring Eye.
What Gust of Knowledge blew thee off to Sea?
A desp'rate Curiosity.
In Mountain-Waves, and raging Wind,
Tell us, what couldst thou hope to find?
'Tis answer'd,—These are Natures Schools,
To teach the Power of Art and Rules:
From hence what vast instructing things thou'st brought;
Besides the Huge Remains not yet found out.
But of all Knowledge, this was sure the best,
As 'tis the Pole-star to the rest.
How wing'd with Science, men might trace
The foaming Oceans roughest Face;
Plow the vast Furrows of th'amazing Deep,
With Ease and Safety sail and sleep.
No more th' uncertain Northern Tides shall fright,
Familiar Dangers lessen to the Sight;
The Rocks and Sands, the threatning Shore,
Pledges of certain Death before.
Now Roads and Harbours found for help appear,
And show the Follies of our ancient Fear;
Under their Weather Banks we calmly ride
Danger and Safety they divide.
Now they appear the Aids of Providence,
The Sailors Safety, and the Lands Defence.
Bold Science whither wilt thou stear,
See how the Tempests arm'd with Death, appear;
Read but the threatning Language of the Skies,
How gathering Clouds, with-Child of Thunders rise;
See Mountains heap'd in strong Rebellion move,
See Ossa top'd with Pelion, threatning Jove;
See angry Nature rous'd to Civil War,
'Twas Prudence first taught Mankind how to fear;
Bold Science, whither wilt thou Steer!
Vain Caution! See the daring Nymph sets Sail,
What Fear calls Storm, she calls a welcome Gale;
On raging Waves, and Mountain Billows tost,
She sees with Joy her Port, with Joy she quits the Coast;
The Wind's embrac'd with high expanded Wings
The Sailors sleep and fly, the Pilot sings;
Sometimes he mounts so high, he turns his Ear,
And listens for the Musick of a Sphere;
Charm'd with the Symphony, he'll Consort keep,
And Beat true Time, tho' he reviews the Deep.
She's gone, new Worlds she seeks, new Worlds she finds,
She rides on Tempests, and improves the Winds,
Th' Elemental Terrors she'll despise,
And Bully Neptune boldly she defies.
See how Mankind by her Experience taught,
Has all to Rule and Method brought;
The Practicable Seas to Art submit,
And Wealth and Commerce freely circulate,
With steady hand th' experienc'd Pilot Steers,
And laughs in Northern Waves at Southern Fears,
Defies the two and thirty Hosts of Air,
And sits compos'd i'th' midst of Elemental War,
All unconcern'd at Natures Quarrels, he,
To his own Use, applies their Enmity.
The Furious Wind, the Water's Rage,
He wisely joins to his Just End, the Voyage:
In this he makes their pointed Rage agree,
And forms their Discord into Harmony.
So jarring Parties in a State,
By the Wise Conduct of the Crown,
Are manag'd to support the Magistrate,
And fix that Power they struggle to pull down.
Knowledge gives Courage, Science makes Men brave;
Folly drives headlong to the Grave:
For Ignorance and Fear make Cowards run
Into those Dangers they'r afraid to shun.
Discretion only makes Men safe and bold,
While Fears the Remedies withhold;
Fear holds the Gates of Reason fast,
Shuts out its help, and so the Coxcomb's lost.
The Pilot now, Consummate in his Skill,
Made safe by Nature, mounts the Watry Hill;
Thro' Paths untrod, and Mazes of the Deep,
He Cuts his Guided Course, the rough, the steep,
Are all made smooth to him, he knows his Way,
He neither fears the Night, nor Courts the Day:
Thro' all the Tempests Midnight Rage he slies,
Visits the Bottoms now, anon the Skies.
When up to Heav'n he mounts, the Cheering Sun
Makes glad, and 'tis the same when darting down;
To all the Dark abyss he shoots and see's,
The Hollow Deeps of Natures Nudities;
Till his Blest Port with steady Hand he finds:
And thus to Art he reconciles the Winds.
Thus vanishes the Horrid and the Wild,
And Nature's now with pleasant Eyes beheld;
When Boreas mad with northern Vapours raves,
We smile, and with Contempt survey the Waves
Art reconciles the Elements, and Trade
Can now with ease the Globes Extremes invade.
Eternal circulating Commerce flows,
And ev'ry Nation, ev'ry Nation knows.
Torrid and Frigid scale, and joyn the Poles,
And far as Wind can blow, or Water rolls,
Ships sail, and Men in search of Wealth will trace
All the Meanders of the Universe.
The rough, the smooth, to men of Art submit;
The Northern Winter Cold, or Southern Heat,
With equal Safety, and with equal Ease,
Calm Caspian Lakes, and Caledonian Seas.
By Natures Aid, and Arts concurring Law,
Dangers are only Helps to draw.
The Thirsts of Honour Generous Minds bewitch,
And Danger tempts the Brave, as Gold the Rich.
'Twas Courage first that ventur'd out to Sea,
Young in Experience, as Philosophy.
Noah himself had certainly been drown'd,
Had not his Courage, as his Faith, been sound.
Hail Caledonia, by vast Seas embrac't;
Those Seas for Glory, Wealth and Terror plac't.
Dreadful in Fame, to thee familiar grown,
Suited to no mens Temper like thy own.
The bounteous Ocean fraught with native Gold,
Sav'd it for thee; by its own Curse, the Cold.
Had not the Storms and Tempests govern'd here,
And fenc'd this long hid Treasure round with Fear,
Past Ages had thy rifled Store decreast,
And Foreign Nations all thy Wealth possest.
Wealth that well suits a hardy Race like thine,
That dares through Storms and Death pursue the Mine.
Wealth hid from Cowards, and the fainting Hand,
Scar'd with the Sea's content to starve by Land.
But when thy daring Sons the Wave explore,
The Ocean yields her unexhausted Store:
Thy open Harbours all her Gifts divide,
And Seas of Wealth roll in with ev'ry Tide:
The Golden Shoals thy very Nets pursue,
Laugh at the lesser Treasures of Peru;
Prompt thee to change the meanness of thy State,
Bids thee, when e're thou wilt, be rich and great.
Tell us ye Sons of Myst'ry, from what Hand,
What secret High Command
Gives out the Word that's heard to Natures Deep,
Where all the Scaly Tribes their Councils keep?
Who tells them when the very Month arrives?
And who the secret Order gives?
When from the Womb of Wonders far by-North,
The mighty Slymy Hosts come forth;
The num'rous Legions spread the Sea,
The wondring frighted Waves give way;
Forward the Mighty moving Hosts push on,
All guided by a Hand unknown.
Th' Involuntary well directed Fry,
The unknown something readily obey.
No Pilot can with more Exactness steer,
Not Sun or Moon divides the Year.
Not the revolving Stars their Course obey•
Not Darkness can succeed the Day,
With a more punctual steady Pace,
In Manner, Measure, Time and Place;
True to the very Distance of the Shore,
They'r never, where they never were before
Where there's but few, there ever was but few,
To ev'ry Circumstance so true.
Such Courses steer, such Orders keep,
Thro' all the wandring Mazes of the Deep;
As if the Ancient Paths they could discry,
Or read their Father's History:
Then Caledonians lend an humble Ear,
And your own ill accepted Blessings hear,
From the profound unmeasur'd Deeps
Where Nature all her Wonders keeps.
Her Handmaid Instinct, this Blest Message gave
To all the Watry Crew beneath the Watry Cave.
Go Numberless and spread the Finny Sail,
And find Britannia Nature's Darling Isle;
There spread your Scaly Squadrons, and submit,
Your Makers Law Commands, To Every Net.
Be You Their Wealth and plenteously supply
What Coldest Soil and Steril Climes deny.
Be You Their Envy'd Blessing, and attend
The willing Prey, to the undustrious Hand,
In proper Squadrons all your Troops divide,
And visit Every Creek, with Every Tide.
Present your selves to every Hungry Door,
Employ The Diligent, and feed The Poor.
If they reject the Bounties of the Sea
Bid'em Complain no more of Poverty.
Upbraid their sloth, and then return to me,
Visit no other Port.
The punctual well instructed Fish obey,
And Scaly Squadrons spread the Northern Sea,
Directly point their Course, and find the Shore,
As if they'd all been here before.
Their equal Distance keep, divide and join,
As if they're taught by Book, or steer'd by Line:
Their strong Detachments send to every Creek,
In just Proportion their own Mischiefs seek.
Seek out the Harbours, seek the Indented Shore,
Timploy the Diligent, and feed the Poor.
No other Port they visit.
Ah! Caledonia, mark the High Command,
And mark the Caution of the Heavenly Hand;
If thou reject the Bounties of the Sea,
No more Complain of Poverty.
Hadst thou in early time with Wisdom grac't
Heav'ns Bounty, as in Duty bound, embrac't,
Above the Nations thou hadst rais'd thy Head,
At Home their Envy, and abroad their Dread,
Thy Wealthy Clime would all the World invite,
They'd Court Thee to Unite.
No more of Barren Hills and Seas complain,
Reproach the Land with Blasts, with Storms the Main.
Not all the Spicy Banks of Ganges Stream,
Not Fruitful Nile so oft the Poets Dream,
Not Isles of Pearl, not rich Pacifick Seas,
Not the more Fruitful Caribbees,
Not Africks Wealth or Chilean Stores,
The Silver Mountains, or the Golden Shores,
Could such an Unexhausted Treasure boast,
A Treasure how supinely lost!
What Pains has Scotland taken to be Poor,
That has the Indies at her Door;
That lets her Coursest Fate of Choice remain,
And sees her Maker Bountiful in Vain.
When Caledonians, when will you be wise,
And search for certain Wealth in Native Seas?
A Wealth by Heav'n design'd for none but You,
A Wealth that does your very Hands pursue,
Upbraids You with Neglect of Your own Right,
And courts Invading Neighbours in your Sight.
When Caledonians, when will You be wise?
When from Your Clouded Circumstances rise?
Banish Invaders, Heav'n's own Gifts enjoy,
This would Your Native Poverty destory.
This would restore Your Ancient dear bought Name,
This, and Your Valour, would revive Your Fame;
How would Your Navies quickly spread the Seas,
And guard that Wealth they help You to possess?
How would Your Commerce all Your Sons restore,
And they'd seek Home that shun'd that Home before?
With Wealth and People, Happy, Rich and Free,
You'd first Improve the Land, and then the Sea;
Be Strong, be Great, be Rich, be Europe's Fear,
Their War, their Wealth, their Trade, their Honours share.
But let's Retreat, Who can the Scene survey,
And View this Wealth the Neighbour Nations Prey;
What Eye, that's Caledonia's Friend, can see
Her Sons on Shore, and Strangers spread the Sea?
Who can, with Patience, View her People Poor,
And Mines of Wealth snatch'd up at ev'ry Door?
The Bounty Heav'n for their Peculiar meant,
Reap't by the Hands to whom 'twas never sent.
The Ocean plunder'd, the Advantage sold,
While these enjoy the Tempests, those the Gold.
Hail Blest Conjunction, Brittain's last best Hour,
Shall Caledonia to her self restore;
Assert her long neglected Property,
Her Blessing, her Inheritance, the Sea.
In hopes of this, let's land and range the Shore,
And view the Nation that the World calls Poor.
Plenty's a doubtful Word mistook by most,
A modern Term for Luxury and Waste.
So Canaan flow'd. the Lands in Plenty drown'd;
Yet Egypt did in vast Increase abound.
The World's amus'd with different Forms of Words,
When various Sence the various Thought affords.
Nature's by vast Comparisons explain'd,
And all her Contradictions so maintain'd.
So Scotlands Barren, Fruitful, Poor and Rich:
Speak Malice, Speak Insulters, tell us which.
Describe the Globe, run all the Climates o'er,
She's Poor compar'd to Rich, and Rich compar'd to Poor.
In Climates next, let's view her Northern Coast,
A fruitful Stile, with Epithets embos't,
The Horrid, Boistrous, Barren, and the Cold,
What Fabl'd Monstrous Stories have been told!
Yet range the Globe, and her Extremes survey,
And sail from Magellan to Hudsons Bay;
Ditto the Jest, and when the Truth's but told,
She's Cold compar'd to Hot, and Hot compar'd to Cold.
Nor is there less of Injury appears
About her Mountains, or her Mountaineers.
View but the Savage Madagascar Moors,
Campeche Indians, or Circassian Boors,
And when the Characters we shall compare,
A Northern Highland-man's a Christian there.
Polite his Manners, and his Modern Dress,
Is Beauty all, when match't with Ugliness.
THe Plan's Describ'd, the Seas and Shores Survey'd;
Let's now the Treasures of the Land Invade,
Traverse their Hills, and all their Vales Descry,
And spread their just Description to the Eye.
The Rugged Nation plac'd by Nature here,
Shall in their fancied Poverty appear;
The World shall blush, when they their Picture see,
And Fame grow Proud to Print their History.
The Soil no more unjust Reproach shall bear,
For all they Talk of Barren's slander here,
And 'tis, or may be Fruitful ev'ry where.
A hardy Race possess the stormy Strand,
And share the Moderate Bountys of the Land,
Fitted by Nature for the Boistrous Clime,
And larger Blessings will grow due by time.
The num'rous Off-spring patient and sedate,
With Courage special to the Climate wait.
When Nigard Nature shall their Nation hear,
Shall smile, and pay them all the Vast Arrear.
A manly surliness, with Temper mix'd,
Is on their meanest Countenances fix'd.
An awful Frown sits on their threatning Brow,
And yet the Soul's all smooth, and Calm below;
Thinking in Temper, rather grave than Gay,
Fitted to govern, able to obey.
Nor are their Spirits very soon enflam'd,
And if provok'd, not very soon reclaim'd.
Fierce when resolv'd, and fix'd as Bars of Brass,
And Conquest through their Blood can only pass.
In spight of Coward Cold, the Race is Brave,
In Action Daring, and in Council Grave;
Their haughty Souls in Danger always grow,
No Man durst lead 'em where they durst not go.
Sedate in Thought, and steady in Resolve,
Polite in Manners, and as Years Revolve;
Always secure their largest share of Fame,
And by their Courage keep alive their Name.
The lab'ring Poor dejected and supprest•
See not th' approaching Prospect of their Rest.
Knowledge of Liberty's their only want,
And loss of Expectation's their Content.
Too much subjected to immoderate Power,
Their Petty Tyrants all their Pains devour.
Th' extorting Masters their just hopes Restrain,
And Diligence is no where more in vain.
TheLittle Chiefs, for what they call their due,
Eat up the Farme and eat the Farmer too;
Suck the Life-Blood, of Tennant and Estate,
And needless Poverty to both create.
Mistake their Int'rest, Nati'nal Ills procure,
And make the Poor be very very poor.
Th unhappy Drudge, yet bears the mighty Load,
With strange unnat'ral Temperance endow'd,
So servile, so unus'd to Liberty;
He seems the last, that wishes to be free,
Where will Nature run,
That Men should Struggle to be twice Undone;
Afflictions make Men Stupid, Nature winks,
And Sense o'relaid, he acts before he thinks;
Subjected Nature fetter'd with Distress
Dozes, and Bondage does the Soul possess,
Endeavour Slackness, all the Prospects dy,
And with the Hope, the Love of Liberty.
Yet under all the Hardships of their State,
They've something seems to claim a softer Fate;
Nor does it claim alone, The Grand Portent
Foretells the Blessing, and decrees th'Event.
'Tis plainly printed on the Painful Brow,
They shall not always be supprest as now;
Th'approaching Light at Distance dawns, the Ray
Darts a Dim Earnest of the Welcome Day.
When sleeping Bondage doom'd to lasting Night,
Shall help to make the Chearing Beam more bright.
Th'enlighten'd Crowd shall their own Freedom see,
For willful Blindness only, shuts out Liberty;
Bondage is Ignorance, and he that sees,
Needs no directer Cure for that Disease.
Knowledge and Liberty go Hand in Hand,
Fools only will obey, when Knaves command;
The Sordid Yoke no longer can be born,
When once he sees he must the Grievance scorn;
He that in Blind Dependence now submits,
Will rouse his Strength, when he shall rouse his Wits;
Nature prevails, and Sense in Exercise
The Chains on Reason nat'rally unties.
Thus when new Sight shall once but bless the Poor,
'Tis these will Scotland's Liberty Restore;
The strong Conviction no Man can resist,
And Blindness shall against her Will be blest;
And now, in all their Miseries, let's View
What Blessings they industriously pursue;
What just Equivalent they can supply,
For loss of Wealth, and loss of Liberty:
Th' Instructed Poor Laborious and Supprest;
Yet in their very Miseries are blest;
Crush'd with injurious Homage they obey
GOD and their Landlord, but with diff'rent Eye;
And yet to both they pay without Regrett,
To this the Homage, and to that the Debt.
The Negatives of Nature they Endure,
In Virtue Rich, tho in Possessions Poor,
Knowing in Sacreds, in Religion Nice,
And ignorant in nothing more than Vice:
What Crimes they have, they borrow from Mankind,
Hell's Manufactures here are contraband.
Imported by the help of Foreign Trade,
Clandestinely enjoy'd, clandestinely conveigh'd.
Unusual Judgment fills the meaner Heads,
Devotion follows as Instruction leads.
Grave in Behaviour, in Discourse sedate,
And apter to believe than to debate;
And if they can exceed in doing Well,
'Tis in a little little TOO MUCH ZEAL.
In Doctrine sound, in Discipline severe,
The Church obtains her True Dominion here.
And yet her foft Coercives yield no Pow'r,
Either to persecure, or to devour.
Fiercely tenacious of determin'd Truth,
Dreadful to Error, Vigilant of both.
The wild Opinions of a Neighb'ring State,
Find here no Atom-Fancies to create:
The strong fermented Venom hither brought,
Like Irish Poisons, perish in the Thought;
Here no Enthusiastick Notion grows,
The only Barrenness the Nation knows.
A Mitred Jest indeed, the Land perplex'd,
Of Pomp and Pride, and Policy so mix'd;
The awkward medly left us in Debate,
Whether it did proceed from Church or State,
Begot by Power, and introduc'd by Plot,
With Tyranny came in, with Tyranny went out;
But ill agreeing with preciser Air,
It soon grew yellow, pale and sickly here.
The People Wise, and in Religion Nice,
Could not be gull'd with such a Faint Device.
Some Blood the Monster drank, but when it try'd
To take a Dose of Liberty, IT DY'd.
But it their Civil State some Praise affords,
Much greater are the Trophies of their Swords.
Ages of Blood have brought them up to War
And their strong Legions breath in every Air,
They taught the very Swedes themselves to Fight,
And spight of Dulness arm'd the Muscovite;
The sordid Russ, to discipline they Train
And fain would teach the Poles, but that's in vain.
Th' untracted Brute in Ignorance too Wise,
Learn't only how Experience to despise.
Nothing keeps Nature closs in Jayl like Pride,
Squadrons of Page-like Crimes before her ride,
And Ignorance is always next her side.
Where shall we all their Ancient Glory trace,
The forward nations court the very Race:
Not Europe ventures to commence a War
But Caledonian Blood demands her Share,
And if 'tis bought or sold, 'tis always very dear
Leipfick—a Name in Fames red letter'd Roll
Matchless in War, where from the Frozen Pole
Finland sent Monsters, Strangers to the Sun,
Bred up to fight, by great Gustave led on;
And yet by hardy naked Scots out-done.
Voracious Tilly just made drunk with Blood,
At Magdeburgh he rais'd the Crimson Flood,
Tho gorg'd with Slaughter, yet a Thirst for more,
Approach't, all Europe trembled at his Power.
In Leipsick Plain the dreadful Scene begun,
On brighter Deeds the Sun himself ne're shone.
Tilly's first Fury broke the Saxon Line,
And cry'd Victoria, all the Troops fall in,
With Blood and Terror glittering Eagles shine.
The Scots reserv'd for Dangers hither flye,
Dangers their Post by Nation, taught to dy,
And wing'd with Rage they ravisht Victory.
Not the unequal Squadrons, not the Day
Half lest, not slaughter'd Saxons in the way,
Not formidable Death, that Jest of War,
In whatsoever shapes she durst appear,
Could their intrepid stedy Motion stay,
Nothing but slaughterd Foes and Victory;
Surrounded, they with doubl'd Fury fight,
And pleasd with Danger, shine in. Naked white,
Gustavus saw how Fury like they fought,
And better witness never Soldiers sought;
The mighty Hero smil'd, with Wonder pleas'd,
And still they fought the more, the more he prais'd.
They Crown'd his Head with Lawrell's first, and he
To their just Valour own'd his Victory.
From whence advancing with a just Applause,
The ruin'd Protestants abandon'd Cause;
Religion and the Countrey they restore,
And grateful Germany commemorates the Hour.
In thirty Months continued fierce Campaign,
From Leipsick Plains, the Neckar, and the Main,
The Rhine, the Danube, and the Lech they cros't,
No Battle where they fought was ever lost.
Never was such an Army, such a Head,
Such Men to follow, such a King to Lead:
such Countreys Travers'd, or such Battles won,
Such Conquests made, or Conquests made so soon.
Where shall we all their ancient Glories trace?
Let's hasten down to Ramellies a pace;
But stop at Phillipsburg, and ask Turenne,
And read their ancient Trophies on the Rhine,
How they did there the Gallick Name advance,
And by their Blood gave Plumes to growing France
France, that on Foreign Valour raisd their Throne,
By other Nations Swords, and not their own,
Strip't of that Help how easily they fall,
And faint like Jericho without her Wall.
Recall'd from hence they Williams Sword obey,
And beat the French at Mons fordwant of Pay;
Soon as the Caledonian Bands appear,
Not Luxemberg himself disdaind to fear;
'Twas on their Valour he had rais'd his Fame,
He knew they'd Conquer where soe're they came.
He'd seen 'em fight when great Turenne lay dead,
He'd seen them follow where he durst not lead;
He'd seen them fight when all the Army fled.
When wise de Lorge to shun his own Defeat,
Under their Valour shelter'd his Retreat.
The experienc'd Hero, grave in War and State,
In this as sober, as in that sedate.
Advisd his Master, caution'd by his Fear,
To gain the Scots, or else decline the War.
Then view 'em under fifteen Years Recess,
Ranging thro' Europe to avoid the Peace.
Battel and Death they make their chief Delight,
And in all Nations teach the World to fight.
Buda the dreadfull'st Siege the World ere saw,
What Hero's did the Fame of Danger Draw?
Lesly th' Old Croatian Ban appears,
And daring Scots led up the Volunteers.
What Actions pass't, let only such relate,
Who know how Men resolv'd to Conquer meet;
Never was Town with such strange Fury fill'd,
Such Deeds Victoria seldom has beheld;
Such Storms, such Fury, Flesh and Blood nere bore,
Nor Town was ever so maintain'd hefore;
The desp'rate Garrison disdain to Fear,
With their own slaughter'd Bones the Breach repair;
Contemning Mercy, they like Furies fight,
And just as fast as Life declin'd, submit.
What Streams of Blood must in such Fights be lost?
What Fatal Price must such a Conquest cost?
Life so bestow'd, is always sold too dear,
But VALIANT SCOTS, what Business had you here?
With Noble Blood adorn'd, and blooming Years,
You were not made to storm like Musqueteers;
Scotland run too much venture in your Blood,
To have your Rate so little understood;
You had no desperate Fortunes there to raise
Your Names enough, you could not fight for Praise:
Then why so lavish, why so rashly brave?
To play away the Lives you ought to save;
Scotland has Sons indeed, but none to spare,
To furnish out the Shows and Sports of War;
You are her tenderest part which touch the whole,
And what lets out your Blood, lets out her Soul.
Pardon the Satyrs interrupting here,
She owns, she hates this volunteering War,
When neither King nor Country to retrive,
The injur'd help, or the Oppress'd relieve,
Neither to gain Dominion, or to save;
Men die for nothing but the Fame of Brave.
So Foster hang'd himself with deep Design,
Only to see himself be buried fine.
Hard Fate of Men, that only for a Name,'
Will in their own Destruction seek their Fame.
That covet Dangers, and ride Post to die,
To live in Air, and WALK in Memory;
Vain Fame with high Fermented Vapour hot,
To be remember'd, strives to be forgot.
Wrap'd in his Jest, the bubbl'd Heroe dies,
Immortalizd in Mortal Memories,
Fill's up a Ballad, made too great in Rhime,
Is fabl'd into Tale, and dies again by Time.
And this for nothing, but to have it known,
He dy'd an ASS of very great Renown,
A forward Coxcomb, who in haste to dy,
Fought for he car'd not who, nor car'd not why.
One just Excuse indeed some few may give,
That die, because they can't tell how to live:
These shall in Pity 'scape our Censure here,
So Cowards dare not live, and hang themselves for Fear.
He's truly brave that Fights in Just Defence
Of Virtue press'd, of injur'd Innocence,
Himself, the Laws, his Neighbour, or his Prince;
Dares all the lawful Call's of Fate obey,
No Danger will decline, no Trust betray;
While he that heal's his Tortures in the War,
Own's he's a Coward, and only fights for Fear:
As for the Sport of Fighting, that's a Jest,
They talk of most, that understand it least.
Buda reduc'd, and Gallantry laid by,
Europe the Sweets of short liv'd Peace enjoy:
Not the Recess of Arms can cool their Fire,
Quench't in the Act, they burn in the Desire;
Not Capuan Plenty, not luxuriant Ease,
The Man of Action's first and worst Disease,
Can Taint their Temper, quench their Thirst of Fame,
Or Rust the pollish'd splendor of their Name.
Their Arms may tarnish, but the Soul's kept bright,
For, spight of Practice, they by Nature fight;
Born Soldiers, fitted from the Birth for Fame,
Bodies all Iron, and their Souls all Flame.
The War revives, Bellona sounds to Arms,
The Scots by Nature ravish't with her Charms,
From their remotest Mountains hear the sound,
And Troops of Hero's spread Hibernian Ground;
With Native Fire and sense of Glory fill'd,
And wing'd with Joy, they rush into the Field.
In ev'ry Action that deserv'd a Name,
They shar'd the Hazard, others shar'd the Fame;
William with Pleasure often led 'em on,
They gave, they guarded, and they lov'd his Crown;
Smiling he view'd the Wonders of their Hands.
Happy the Gen'ral Troops like these Commands,
The gladded Monarch said,
when at Namure,
Ramsay fell on and mock'd the Gallick Power,
And emulating Nations wondring first gave o're.
At Derry, Limrick, Agrim, or the Boyn,
Athlone, Namure, at Steenkirk, or anden;
At all, their Hero's fought, at all they dy'd,
And latent Virtue want of Victory supply'd.
William, that Men of Courage lov'd t'obey,
How mourn'd he Douglass, Angus, and Mackay?
Too great a Loss for one unhappy Day.
A Loss that yielded France the Victory;
A Loss that none but Scotland could supply;
None had such to survive, or such to Dy.
Should we to recent Memory apply,
And trace the Scots in Modern History:
The present rising Glory of their Name,
Comes up to all that's ancient in their Fame.
At Schellemberg how could they choose but fight,
New Vigour swell'd their Nation at the sight;
The very Spot where Hepburn Storm'd before,
And Conquering Scots, Imperial Standards tore.
Where Ramsey, Murray, Rhea, and Hamilton,
Like Lyons fought, the Swedes amaz'd lookt on,
And saw th' impregnable Intrenchments won.
And now the Scots in Valour still the same,
Worthy the Race, and equal in their Flame,
With the same Fury, gain the same Applause,
The same the Courage, and the same the Cause:
The same the Circumstance, the same Success,
That great Gustavus saw, great Marlbro' this.
Let future Poets Blenheims Trophies sing,
And Ramellies to Chime, with Leipsick bring;
There Orkney, Campbell, Hamilton, and Hay,
Shall match the Hero's, and shall match the Day.
To Times last Period hand their Nations Fame,
And ev'ry Ages Glory shall the next Enflame.
THeir Forreign Deeds are trac'd, and now we come,
To search the Fund of Fame that's left at Home;
A Thousand Kings the mighty Land possess,
In Merit greater, tho' in Title less.
Kings in Command and in superiour Race,
And Virtue Ripens such for Crowns a pace.
Nobility of Blood, their Actions suit,
And Action here indents the Attribute;
Here Families in Lines of Virtue run,
The Father's Merit doubling in the Son.
The growing Honour forms a just Encrease,
First Crowns in War, and then Rewards in Peace.
Illustrious Blood with more illustrious Hand,
In proper Channels has been here retain'd:
Th' Antiquity which other Nations boast,
Would here turn Modern, and in age be lost.
Scotland in Senior Glory will contend,
When lame Chronology with Age grows blind.
Here mighty Ancestors preserve their Stile,
From long Prescription, ancient as the Isle.
Not rais'd on Party Favour, Bribes and Fear,
Blood, Tyranny, Oppression, Theft and War;
Not raisd by strength OF FACE, or strength of Purse,
A Stock of Money, or a Stock that's worse;
But from the Youth of Time, their Names remain,
When Vertue only could that Fame obtain.
Back, further back than Story can relate,
When Infant Nations fix'd their Forms of State.
When Tricks of State and Court Intreague unknown,
No mighty Knave could Brother Villain Crown.
From Blood to Blood their Violence pursue,
First steal their Honours, then proclaim 'em due.
By Fraud and strong Oppressions Crowns obtain,
While those support the Frauds, and these the Reign;
Alternate Violences Fame supply,
The modern Fund of mean Nobility.
If there be any thing in Birth and Blood,
Or were Antiquity but understood;
If the old Trophies of our Fathers Fame,
When thoughts of Virtue burn, would fan the Flame;
Make us their Steps of Dignity pursue,
And Ancient Honours would excite to new.
If any true Nobility remains,
And Virtue could by Blood possess the Veins.
Then let's no farther search the World in vain,
To Ancient Rome, and lost Records of Spain;
Nations in Barb'rous Hydra-mixtures rais'd,
And only by their own too partial Flatt'ries prais'd.
Fabii, Cornellii, and the Bruti yield
To Caledonian Tribes the Ancient Field.
Cummin, Duff, Donald, Strathern, Hay, and Keith,
And Names would run Fame's Trumpet out of Breath.
Their old Armorial Honours still retain,
While Rome in modern Lines contends in vain.
Nor has the Country lent her partial Fame,
And from her later Towns bestow'd the Name,
Not Towns the Names, but Names the Towns Command
And Families take Titles from the Land:
So Douglass, Mar and Southerland survive,
And not from Towns, but Provinces derive.
Kingdoms of old, who tho the Claim's laid down,
Yet in th' Antiquity they keep the Crown.
The Blood of Princes in their Race we see,
And modern Merit joins to old Nobility.
Blest are the Families that great in Blood,
Have thus their truest Honour understood,
That on the Base of Vertue Built their Fame,
And join to that lesser Praise their Name,
The only Just and truly great Design;
For Vertue helps Nobility to shine.
Then who shall search the long forgotten Roll,
Examine all the Parts, or Sum the whole,
Who shall the Impotence of Art supply,
Beyond the reach of Books or Heraldry?
There Gordon, Lindsay, Crawford, Mar and Wems,
With Seaton, Ramsey, Cuninghame and Gra'ams,
Forbes, Ross, Murray, Bruce, Dunbar and Hume,
And Names for whom no Poet can make Room;
Remote in Birth, in Names and Honours known,
The Caledonian Glory through the World have show'n.
Where shall the Galick Trophies now appear?
The Ancient Belgae would look modern here.
Not Mommerancy, not the great Nassau,
Could Ancestors like these, directly draw.
Douglass with Native Dignitys adorn'd,
Ancient beyond Record,
Records they scorn'd.
The World's the general Record of their House,
When Histories are silent and abstruse.
The Fund of Families is in their Blood,
And the Fam'd Scoti on their Shoulders stood,
A Race of Princes from their fruitful Stem,
Has been a living History to them.
Their Fame that's past, foretold their Fame to come,
They'r Dukes abroad before they'r Dukes at home.
The Nation's willing Honours did afford,
And these cut out their. Glory by the Sword;
For 'twas the early Fortunes of their Blood,
To have their Worth both Crown'd and understood;
Princes by their strong Swords possest their Crowns,
And grateful France their Ancient Glory owns.
When Men are of true Merit first possest,
Justice prevails, the World supply's the rest.
For Characters will always suit Mens Deeds,
Honours will follow, when our Vertue leads.
The Mighty Branch that now supports the Race,
Ripens the blooming Stock for Fame apace,
With high instructing well directed Hand,
Shews him both how t'obey, and how Command,
By Just Example guides him to pursue,
And double all their Ancient Deed's with New.
Himself with steady hand the State directs,
Suppresses Factions, Liberty protects,
Scatters the threatning Clouds, prevents the Storms;
And gently al! mistaken Zeal reforms;
Backward to punish bears th' insulting Street,
Yet makes his Patience and his Justice meet:
And when their Pride his Government defies,
PITYS: For 'tis below him to despise.
Great ANN'S Illustrious Scepter 'tis he sways,
And while he rules, Envy her self obeys;
Malice may swell, and wild Dislike appear,
But all their Spleen ferments into dispair:
Grovling they ly in Grief and Discontent,
Crusht by the Chariot Wheels of Government.
So Devils chaind, their Hate of Heaven express,
But as their Rage grows great, their Power grows less.
Campbells the modern Glory of this Isle,
Their doubling Fame's encreas't in great Argile;
Born to be great, to Noblest Blood ally'd,
He keeps the Honour, and abates the Pride,
For Action fitted, to the Wars inclin'd,
True Caledonian Courage swells his Mind;
Fitted his Country's Character to raise,
And by great Actions hand along her Praise.
Of ancient Stock, and long forgotten Race,
Nature has stamp'd their Glories in his Face.
The strong Impress of ev'ry manly Line
In Characters of Native Honour shine,
An Index of the brighter Soul within.
A Race to Caledonia always dear,
And on whose Blood her Liberties appear.
A Race to Honour, and their Countrey true,
They furnish'd Funds of Old, he heaps up stores of New.
Nor shall weak prejudice debauch our Pen,
To flatter prosp'rous Fate, and guild the Crimes of Men
But undistinguish'd Virtue we'll rehearse,
For partial Praises are below our Verse.
Curst be that Party-spleen that shuts Men's Eyes,
From the just Merits of their Enemies;
That prepossess'd by Feud, denies Applause,
And dares not praise the Man without the Cause.
Where Honour claims it, Honour will be just,
And where Mens Actions praise 'em, all Men must.
Gordon, by Family and Fortune's great,
Tho' lost in Solitude and long Retreat,
Shall rise in Honour, as He's great in Mind,
Brave as the Roman, as the Christian kind,
A Gen'rous Enemy, a Faithful Friend.
Faction's below him, if he does dislike,
He always dares to show his Face, and strike;
Treason's a Stab ith' dark, that Man that's brave,
May show the En'my, cannot show the Knave.
The Hamiltons of old ally'd to Fame,
Illustrious in Blood, and more in Name;
In ancient Wars e're other Lines begun,
These had a length of tow'ring Fortunes run.
Titles from France; from Sweden Wounds and Scars,
And batter'd Bones they bring from Belgick Wars;
Yet fraught with Honour, and rewards of Fame,
Honour revives, and Years increase the Flame.
Eight Noble Branches hand their Glory down,
Channels of Blood from Caledonia's Crown,
Each have large shares of Merit of their own.
Each in their proper Lines their Houses raise,
By Pers'nal and Hereditary Praise;
What Debt of Praise are to the Lesly's due?
Who shall their Family or Fame pursue?
The Bloody Steps no single Line can trace,
Nor Envy fetch'd from Hell, their History deface.
Born Gen'rals, all by Nature fram'd for War,
In ev'ry Battel's Front their Names appear;
The Swede, the Russ, and the Hungarians yield,
To them the willing Tribute of the Field;
From Esseck Bridge to mighty Astracan,
Their Terrors with the Barb'rous Crowds remain.
Grasted to this Old Stock, and to their Fame,
Leven adds Modern Glory to the Ancient Name;
Scotland depends on his experienc'd Hand,
Safe, Not in Armies, but in his Command.
HE, young in Years, yet very old in Arms,
Guards her from Foreign or Domestick Harms,
His faithful Aids new vig'rous Life afford,
And boldly draws Hereditary Sword.
Stuart ancient as the Hills from which they sprung
The Mountains still do to the Name belong;
From hence they branch to ev'ry high Degree:
And Foreign Courts embrace the Progeny.
The rising Stem with thirst of Glory fir'd,
Not he to th'Crown, the Crown to him aspir'd;
His high attracting Fame the Nation drew,
They gave old Crowns, and Fate supply'd the new.
Thy Scepter Caledonia in their Hand,
First rais'd the real Glory of the Land;
And seven successive Branches held the Crown,
Till Britain vail'd, and made the Stuarts her own.
What Blood, what Wars, what strong convulsive Throws,
Britania fill'd with inbred Vapour knows?
How oft the interveening Hand of Blood,
Has their successive Happiness withstood?
Spread the dark Vail, let's hide the dismal Scene,
Let others paint the Horrid-draught, our Pen
Shall show the bright, and wish the rest unseen.
ANN, the remaining Glory of the Race,
With unexampl'd Lustre fills the place,
Without their failings all their Virtue shares,
And Britains bright Imperial Joy prepares.
Blest be the Hour, blest that auspicious Reign
When ANN, the Stuarts last Glory, shall obtain
That Calm both Nations long have wish'd in Vain.
When Years of Rapine and Revenge shall cease,
And Feuds of Blood be lost in Floods of Peace;
Reserv'd for her, reserv'd to Crown the Line,
Sever'd too long, the listning Nations Joyn.
Nature directs, concurring Cause invites,
The Nations say Amen, and all of course Unites.
Then Party Hate and Border Spleen lay'd down,
Our Hearts shall first unite, and then the Crown;
Britain be one, one End and Interest view,
And hand in hand one Happiness pursue.
A Gallaxy of Worthies now appear,
And spread the Caledonian Hemisphere;
ROXBURGH enjoys the Curse of all mans Praise,
And TWEEDDALE adds trueLustre to the ancient HAYS,
Grave and sedate, he fill'd his Sovereign's Throne,
Maintain'd its Honour, and increas'd his own.
Montrose revives the Ancient Race of Gra'me,
From Time and Injury retrieves the Name,
Lays all his Family Oppressions by,
And in his Countrey's Good, lets just Resentment dy;
In Scotlands Secret Council he presides,
With early Prudence every Action guides,
Sober, not dull, Pious, and not precise,
Grave, without Age, without Experience wise;
More thinking, more sedate than he appears,
And older in Understanding than in Years.
Glasgow adorns the Ancient Name of BOYL,
The Name's a constant Honour to the Isle,
A Name Britania always boasts to hear,
For Learning, Wisdom, Wealth and Character
Increas'd in England, and increasing here.
The God of Musick joins when COLVIL plays,
And all the Muses dance to HADDINGTONS Essays;
The Charms are mutual, piercing and compleat,
This in his Art excells, and that in Wit.
Seafield, and Marr, and Loudoun guide the State,
By Birth and Place, still more by Merit great.
No Malice can their Characters conceal,
But those direct the Sceptre, this the Seal.
The well instructed Pilots of the Realm
Who while just Queensberry steers, assist the Helm:
With waking Cares they all surround the Throne,
Support the Well known burthens of the Crown;
Th' important Drudgery with Pleasure do,
Their Countrey's Safety, not their own, pursue.
Thro' Storms of Tumult and Distraction steer,
Not rais'd with Hope, and not supprest with Fear;
With Calm, but steady hand the Factions guide
At once, they yield to, and resist the Tide:
Wisely they calm the Feuds Weak Heads create,
And heal the wild Distempers of the State;
To every tender part their Hands apply,
And to the Mischiefs suit the Remedy;
True Patriot Principles their Minds possess,
Their Countrey them, and they their Countrey bless.
But their just Zeal to ANN's Immortal Throne,
Makes every Noble Character their own.
Nothing a Princes Wisdom more displays,
Than choice of Counsellors,
The double Praise.
Is always first the Monarchs, then their own,
First it illustrates, then supports the Throne.
But we'll no more pursue the mighty Train,
Whom to describe our Verse attempts in vain;
The Muses vail before the Illustrious Throng,
Too bright for Verse, too num'rous for our Song;
Our Ancestors had merited in vain,
If our new steps did not their old maintain:
But as our Modern Virtue stands as high,
The present Worthies do the past supply;
A certain Pledge, our Name shall never dy.
And now with Just regard let's view the Fair,
Beauty can make no Breach of Union here;
Th' Equalities agree on either hand,
The Ladies no equivalent demand;
Nor will their Virtue be exhausted here,
But still the Sex their just Proportions bear:
Blest Mixture, equally Devout and Gay,
For Virtue only can both smile and pray.
No Scale of calculated Right will ly
Betwixt the Quantity and Quality;
England indeed the larger Roll may claim,
And English Beauty will preserve her Name;
But these the Merit equally divide,
Have all their Beauty, only want their Pride.
And now to Wonders turn your listning Ear,
Visit the Commonwealth of Learning here;
See how Apollo's Nurs'ry thrives, and how
Wit blooms in spight of Climat, Storms and Snow;
The Muses all laborious and severe,
Are Gard'ners bred, and work like Horses here;
There Seeds of Science carefully they sow,
Here cultivate the Soil, to make 'em grow,
Plant, Prune, Inocculate, the Seasons tend,
And ev'ry fruitful Scyon to its Stock they bend.
See here how ev'ry Plant in order thrives,
And spight of Clime the tend'rest Blossom lives.
Here Epicks thick, as Groves of Laurel grow,
And strong Heroicks, plac'd in Walks below,
Lyricks and Pastorals in even Layes,
And Panygericks circled round with Bays,
There Knowledge grows, for Quantity and Kind,
The best, and best prepar'd t' instruct the Mind,
Temper'd with Modesty, 'tis set bya Zeal
Fitted her rash Infections to repell.
Next this in constant Bloom's a Range of Wit,
And ev'ry day 'tis weeded of Conceit,
Kept thin, intrench'd, and never runs to seed,
But ripens gently in its flowry Bed;
For Wit's a Plant so apt to grow in haste,
It shakes the Root, and then decays as fast.
Strong Sciences in pleasing Order stand,
With Borders of Philosophy on either hand.
These well reward the Lab'rers constant Toil,
Are nourish'd by, and yet improve the Soil.
But above all the Wonders of the Spot,
A simple, Men of Learning oft forgot,
In a small Border very cold and dry,
Here thrives that Tender Trifle, HONESTY;
Neglected Weed! from what strange Climate brought,
How seldom found, indeed, how seldom sought?
How do the easy World appear content
With spurious Kinds,
How very often vent
The False for True, and give their Sense the lye,
And make their Int'rest pass for Honesty?
Another Plant, but ah! how faint it grows?
Not that 'tis hurt by Climate, Frost, and Snows;
But as if Nature suffer'd strong Decay,
It withers every where, and dies away.
The nicest Plant that ever grew,
Talk'd of by many, understood by few.
It's only Help is Honesty, and where
That thrives, it gets some Strength; but's very rare,
By Weeds of Self and Jealousie ore'run,
'Tis choak'd for want of Air, and shaded from the Sun.
But who shall now the thriving Plants describe,
The Ever-greens, that quickning June imbile,
And furnish new Recruits to Levi's Tribe?
Sons of the Prophets at Gamaliel's Feet,
Who extract Learning, then refin't to wit,
By the laborious Lymbeck of the Brain,
Condense the Sp'rit, and let the Humid parts remain,
No loytring Sing-song Muses trifle here,
Weaving THIN FANCY into Webs of Air;
But here they Wed the Sciences for Wives,
And beat like Hemp at Bridewell for their Lives:
Th' Enquirers here to Ida's Top aspire,
Parnassus coolest Springs, can only quench their Fire.
To Learning's highest Pinacles attain,
By strong assiduous Travel of the Brain,
Ravish the Muses, in their Deeps delight,
And learn with the same Fury as they fight;
To curious search, to things, and Books so prest,
The Ancients or the Moderns find no rest,
Till Universal Knowledge fills the Mind,
And all the Soul's from Dross, and Ignorance refin'd.
Hence they to ev'ry strong Attainment reach,
And what they learn so well, as well they teach;
In ev'ry Art, in ev'ry Science grow,
Not proud of knowing, but are proud to know.
Push to a Vice the Lust of doing well,
And in whate're they Practise they excell.
Humes and Da'rymples here adorn the Law,
With steady Justice,
Neither drive nor draw
But with the Head inform'd, and Hand upright,
Give every Cause its own impartial Weight,
In every Branch of Learning here they rise,
Nothing too high they fear, too low despise,
In every Science, every Just Extreme,
Men of Perfection may be found with them.
The Laws in Mists and Darkness they make clear,
And Physick thrives in spight of wholsome Air,
Pharmacopaea, void of simples, Lives,
And Surgery in barren Practice thrives,
Philosophy meer simple Knowledge vents,
Rather by Nature than Experiments.
Musick in spight of Discord, charms the Ear,
And Jarring Parties break no Consort here.
Thus blest with Art, enricht with Heads and Hands,
Producing Seas, and more productive Lands;
The Climate sound, the People prompt and strong;
Why is her Happiness delay'd so long?
Why with such Patience, and so long endure,
Distempers Prudence could so quickly cure?
Why still on Natures Common Bounty live?
And why so soon content with what She'll give?
For where Contentment makes Endeavour less,
'Tis then a Vice, and not a Happiness.
So the fam'd sluggard starv'd, and reason good,
For want of feeding, not for want of Food;
Bear the Reproof, the fruitful Climate's known,
Not Heaven or Nature blame, the Fault's your own;
The Earth Adapt to bear, the Air, the Sea,
All fruitful, all to Plenty show the way;
No Barrenness, but in your Indust'ry.
'Tis Blasphemy to say the Climates curst,
Nature will ne're be fruitful till she's forc't;
'Twas made her Duty from her first Decay,
The sweating Brow alone, and labouring hand t' obey,
And these she never does, nor dares deny.
And yet this Sloth is not their proper Crime,
'Tis due to Poverty, and that to Time.
Hail SLOTH and POVERTY from Stygian Air,
Ushers to Death, and Handmaids to Despair.
Strange Birth, themeer Perfection of a Curse,
That find Men Mis'rable, and make them worse,
Of ill connected self ingendring Birth,
First circulate themselves, and then the Earth;
Infernal Harmony of Causes make,
And in true Circles of Distress they walk,
Vile Sloth and Poverty of Spurious Breed,
Neither from Heaven or Earth, but of themselves proceed,
Begot in Life, by long degenerate Time,
'Twixt Stagnate Vertue, and Impregnate Crime.
'Twin Monsters neither Seed nor Offspring kno',
reate, by meer Succession flow.
No proper source, but from themselves they find,
And by supine Infusions reach the Mind.
All Natures Rules by their own Power reject,
And are themselves the Cause, themselves th' Effect;
Th' alternate Misery ne're leaves the Door,
But Poverty makes Sloth, and Sloth makes poor,
Unnatural Mixtures form the gendring Pair,
Alternately they both beget and bare.
No Proper Seeds of Life, or living show,
They'r born in Death, and in Consumptions grow;
Superior Witchcraft forms the dismal Race,
And Devils unknown below', connect the Face.
The unhappy Wretch, when Hag-rid and possest,
The Crimes are in his Countenance confest.
A sanguine Pale and drooping brightness shine,
This always Saturnine, and that supine,
Joyn'd hand in hand, they living Death display,
And Life in full perfection of Decay.
No Misery's so great, but they make worse,
Each others Beeing, and each others Curse.
They mingle Death with every punct of Time,
And only in Destruction are sublime;
Slow Poisons which no Antidote can cure,
Lingring in Life and in Destruction sure;
Potent in strength their strong Dominions grow,
Not Men but Nations they can overthrow.
Wake Scotland from thy long Lethargic Dream,
Seem what thou art, and be what thou shalt seem,
Shake off the Poverty, the sloth will dy,
Success alone can quicken Industry.
No more the bondage of reproach endure,
Or bear those Harms thou canst so quickly cure.
Land Improvement to Trade apply,
They'l plentifully Industry.
he barren Muir shall weighty sheaves bestow,
Th' uncultivated Pastures show,
The Mountains Flocks and Herds in stead of Snow.
Natures a Virgin very Chast and coy,
To Court her's nonsence, if ye will enjoy,
She must be ravish't,
When she's forc't she's free,
A perfect Prostitute to Industry;
Freely she opens to th' Industrious hand,
And pays them all the Tribute of the Land.
The strong labourious Head she Can't Deny,
She's only Backward where they won't apply.
Here fruitful Hills, and there the Flowry Plain,
Deep undiscov'rd Funds of wealth contain.
The Silver Veins and vast Mettallick store,
Forbid to call her wildest Mountains poor.
The Mines of Lead, of Copper, and of Coal,
Enrich the several parts, those parts the whole.
Nothing remains to make her Wealth compleat,
But that her right Hand and her left may meet.