Truth No Libel.
Hail ! primeval power, that—ere this beauteous earth1
Forth from the womb of chaos sprung to birth,2
Around yon Sun to wheel its endless race—3
In lonely grandeur reign’d o’er boundless space,4
And saw the sky-born warrior, virgin light,5
Hurl from his shad’wy throne the tyrant night.6
Immortal Freedom ! thou whose magic name7
Rous’d thine own Tell to deeds of deathless fame ;8
Oh say why Britain’s once-lov’d favour’d isles,9
No more to gladness wake beneath thy smiles—10
Say why tbe patriot zeal our sires possest11
No longer warms the modern Briton’s breast,12
And why the rightful owners of the soil,13
Her youthful peasant sons, incessant toil14
To see their care by golden harvest crown’d,15
Yet starve while fair abundance smiles around ;16
While priests and lords the whole produce demand,17
The licens’d locusts that infest the land :—18
Thy answering voice in ev’ry passing wind,19
Replies, what tyrants could enslave mankind20
Would but some Brutus meet the Tarquin’s frown,21
And strike with mighty arm the monster down ?22
Behold above, the cloud unfetter’d flies23
On eddying whirlwinds thro’ the boundless skies,24
And round thy shores old ocean’s restless waves25
Still, still are free—degenerate land of slaves.26
Oh, my lov’d country ! doom’d alas to know27
The bitt’rest pangs of every changing woe ;28
Still are thy wretched sons to Freedom dear,29
Who while she chides them sheds a pitying tear.30
Woe to the state whose starving subjects toil31
For scant subsistence on their mother soil ;32
Where curs’d taxation robs the parent’s hand33
Of food his children’s famished looks demand,34
That pamper’d lords may keep their hated state,35
May whore, blaspheme, and badly legislate ;—36
Where laws are made to serve the makers’ end,37
The poor to rob of what the rich must spend ;—38
Where courts corrupt, their country’s greatest curse ;—39
Pass heaviest sentence on the lightest purse ;—40
Where priests, with princely fortunes at their
nod,41
Say rich men come not to the throne of God ;42
Repose on down, and yet unblushing say,43
Their God and pattern in a manger lay ;44
Tell us on heavenly things our minds to fix,45
Yet dash to service in a coach and six ;46
Rave at extortion and unjust demand,47
Yet ev’ry ten years swallow all the land.48
Oh, if a power supreme exists—a God—49
That rules the vast creation with a nod,50
Why sleeps the awful thunderer of the skies,51
While virtue trembling at his altar lies ?52
How long must mitred perjurers combine53
To rob their country and profane his shrine,54
Ere the dark terrors of his vengeful frown55
And blasting lightnings strike the tyrants down,56
With kindred fiends ’mid horrors dire to dwell,57
And lie and blaspheme in their native hell.58
“ Oh for a curse to kill with ! ”—but ’tis vain,59
For curses cannot burst oppression’s chain,60
Or imprecations deep had freed the earth61
From ev’ry tyrant in his hour of birth ;62
Then had not titled fools and priests of late,63
Defied the people and o’er-awed the state,64
Nor had the miscall’d Commons’ House betray’d65
Their country’s trust, and lent a purchased aid66
To rival statesmen that infest the throne,67
To make what was the public purse their own
;68
T’amuse the people with their nightly broils,69
And then retire to share their guilty spoils.70
It boots not which of tyrant factions rule,71
When both were rear’d in curs’d oppression’s school.72
Both Whig and Tory creeds in this agree,73
That poor men never can nor should be free,74
Being engines formed to serve the ends of state—75
To pay the taxes, and obey the great.76
With shameless fronts the villain Tories stand77
And act the tyrant with a master hand ;78
But patriot Whigs, when they’ve provoked the storm,79
Cry, “ Patience, People,” and “ Reform—Reform ;”80
Let strict economy, exclaims Lord Grey,81
Become a standing order of the day.82
His sal’ry lowers, but envious Tories say83
The secret service fund will that repay,84
And none but Whigs will say the men are wrong85
Who have enjoy’d those secret things so long.86
He boasts of lowering half-paid clerks, to screen87
Hundreds of thousands squandered on a Queen.88
A few weeks longer to delay the war,89
Pays undue millions to a tyrant Czar ;90
These are the patriots thoughtless fools adore,91
Who talk of freedom to enslave us more.92
Britons, awake—reject their useless bill93
That leaves the poor in slavish bondage still.94
Aloud they cry, accept from us this boon,95
And hope we’ll grant you more of freedom soon ;96
But truth at once the treacherous mist dispels,97
They’ve stolen your nuts, and brought you back the shells.98
This bill from which they say such good will rise,99
Unbinds your hands, and puts out both your eyes.100
As treacherous opiates short lived joys impart,101
But leave the life’s blood poisoned at the heart.102
Oh ! pause my country, ere you drain the cup,103
Whose fatal draught to bondage yields you up.104
Drain but the brim, and patriot Freedom’s call,105
In vain on your lethargic ear will fall :106
When struggling Europe’s free, Britons alone107
Will hug their bands, inglorious and unknown,108
Contented sleep, whatever tyrant reigns,109
Eternal slaves, enamour’d of their chains.110
Would you avert, my country, this your fate,111
Oh, crush the factions that distract the state—112
Tyrants alike they run ambition’s race,113
And both turn patriots when turn’d out of place.114
Whigs, who of late their country’s champions stood,115
Say kingly waste is for their country’s good ;116
Think you will they grant liberty who still117
Maintain an army to enforce their will.118
The rival factions differ but in name,119
For both alike at power and plunder aim ;120
Both when in place the Civil List defend,121
That titled whores and pampered lords may spend122
And waste that money on a foreign soil,123
For which Old England’s sons must starve and toil.124
The Corn Laws to repeal they both refuse,125
For that would lower rents and parsons’ dues ;126
They studious shun the poor man’s wretched shed,127
And close their ears against his cry for bread.128
Ye starving poor, whom woes on woes oppress,129
Look not to factious tyrants for redress ;130
Oh, strike for freedom, with indignant hand,131
And drive these guilty spoilers from the land—132
Man makes mankind his slaves, and we133
Must free ourselves if e’er we would be free.134