NOR shall the eternal roll of praise reject
Those Unconforming; whom one rigorous day
Drives from their Cures, a voluntary prey
To poverty, and grief, and disrespect,
as if by tempests wrecked On a wild coast; how destitute! did they Feel not that Conscience never can betray, That peace of mind is Virtue's sure effect? Their altars they forego, their homes they quit, Fields which they love, and paths they daily trod, And cast the future upon Providence;
As men the dictates of whose inward sense Outweighs the world; whom self-deceiving wit Lures not from what they deem the cause of God.
PERSECUTION OF THE SCOTTISH COVENANTERS.
WHEN Alpine vales threw forth a suppliant cry, The majesty of England interposed
And the sword stopped; the bleeding wounds were closed;
And Faith preserved her ancient purity.
How little boots that precedent of good,
Scorned or forgotten, thou canst testify,
For England's shame, O Sister Realm! from wood,
Mountain, and moor, and crowded street, where lie
The headless martyrs of the Covenant,
Slain by compatriot Protestants that draw
From councils senseless as intolerant
Their warrant. Bodies fall by wild sword-law;
But who would force the Soul, tilts with a straw
Against a Champion cased in adamant.
ACQUITTAL OF THE BISHOPS.
A VOICE, from long-expecting thousands sent,
Shatters the air, and troubles tower and spire;
For Justice hath absolved the innocent,
And Tyranny is balked of her desire:
Up, down, the busy Thames - rapid as fire
Coursing a train of gunpowder- it went,
And transport finds in every street a vent,
Till the whole City rings like one vast choir.
The Fathers urge the People to be still,
With outstretched hands and earnest speech,-in vain!
Yea, many, haply wont to entertain
Small reverence for the mitre's offices,
And to Religion's self no friendly will,
A Prelate's blessing ask on bended knees.
(Grave this within thy heart!) if spiritual things
Be lost, through apathy, or scorn, or fear,
Shalt thou thy humbler franchises support,
However hardly won or justly dear:
What came from heaven to heaven by nature clings,
And if dissevered thence, its course is short.
A SUDDEN conflict rises from the swell
Of a proud slavery met by tenets strained
In Liberty's behalf. Fears, true or feigned,
Spread through all ranks; and lo! the Sentinel
Who loudest rang his pulpit 'larum bell
Stands at the Bar, absolved by female eyes
Mingling their glances with grave flatteries
Lavished on him, that England may rebel
Against her ancient virtue. HIGH and LOW,
Watch-words of Party, on all tongues are rife;
As if a Church, though sprung from heaven, must
To opposite and fierce extremes her life,
Not to the golden mean, and quiet flow
Of truths that soften hatred, temper strife.
Down a swift stream, thus far, a bold design
Have we pursued, with livelier stir of heart
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