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But since thy Guilt still more intire appears,
Since no Art hides, no Supposition clears;30
Since vengeful Slander now too sinks her Blast,
And the first Rage of Party-hate is past;
Calm as the Judge of Truth, at length I come
To weigh thy Merits and pronounce thy Doom:
So may my Trust from all Reproach be free,35
And Earth and Time confirm the fair Decree.
There are who say they view'd without Amaze
The sad Reverse of all thy former Praise;
That thro' the Pageants of a Patriot's Name,
They pierc'd the Foulness of thy secret Aim;40
Or deem'd thy Arm exalted but to throw
The public Thunder on a private Foe.
But I, whose Soul consented to thy Cause,
Who felt thy Genius stamp its own Applause,
Who saw the Spirits of each glorious Age45
Move in thy Bosom and direct thy Rage;
