1.
Now, said my heavenly Teacher, all is clear!—
Bear the Beginning and the End in mind,
The course of human things will then appear
Beneath its proper laws; and thou wilt find,
Through all their seeming labyrinth, the plan
Which “vindicates the ways of God to Man.”
2.
Free choice doth Man possess of good or ill;
All were but mockery else. From Wisdom's way,
Too oft, perverted by the tainted will,
Is his rebellious nature drawn astray;
Therefore an inward monitor is given,
A voice that answers to the law of Heaven.
3.
Frail as he is, and as an infant weak,
The knowledge of his weakness is his strength;
For succor is vouchsafed to those who seek
In humble faith sincere; and when at length
Death sets the disimbodied spirit free,
According to their deeds their lot shall be.
4.
Thus, should the chance of private fortune raise
A transitory doubt, Death answers all.
And in the scale of nations, if the ways
Of Providence mysterious we may call,
Yet, rightly view'd, all history doth impart
Comfort, and hope, and strength to the believing heart.
5.
For through the lapse of ages may the course
Of moral good progressive still be seen,
Though mournful dynasties of Fraud and Force,
Dark Vice and purblind Ignorance intervene;
Empires and Nations rise, decay and fall,
But still the Good survives and perseveres through all.
6.
Yea, even in those most lamentable times,
When, every where to wars and woes a prey,
Earth seem'd but one wide theatre of crimes,
Good unperceived had work'd its silent way,
And all those dread convulsions did but clear
The obstructed path to give it free career.
7.
But deem not thou some overruling Fate,
Directing all things with benign decree,
Through all the turmoil of this mortal state,
Appoints that what is best shall therefore be;
Even as from man his future doom proceeds,
So nations rise or fall according to their deeds.
8.
Light at the first was given to human-kind,
And Law was written in the human heart.
If they forsake the Light, perverse of mind,
And wilfully prefer the evil part,
Then to their own devices are they left,
By their own choice of Heaven's support bereft.
9.
The individual culprit may sometimes
Unpunish'd to his after-reckoning go:
Not thus collective man,—for public crimes
Draw on their proper punishment below;
When Nations go astray, from age to age
The effects remain, a fatal heritage.
10.
Bear witness, Egypt, thy huge monuments
Of priestly fraud and tyranny austere!
Bear witness thou, whose only name presents
All holy feelings to religion dear,—
In Earth's dark circlet once the precious gem
Of living light,—O fallen Jerusalem!
11.
See barbarous Africa, on every side
To error, wretchedness, and crimes resign'd!
Behold the vicious Orient, far and wide
Enthrall'd in slavery! As the human mind
Corrupts and goes to wreck, Earth sickens there,
And the contagion taints the ambient air.
12.
They had the Light, and from the Light turn'd;
What marvel if they grope in darkness lost?
They had the Law;—God's natural Law they scorn'd,
And choosing error, thus they pay the cost!
Wherever Falsehood and Oppression reign,
There degradation follows in their train.
13.
What, then, in these late days had Europe been,
This moral, intellectual heart of earth,—
From which the nations who lie dead in sin
Should one day yet receive their second birth,—
To what had she been sunk if brutal Force
Had taken unrestrain'd its impious course!
14.
The Light had been extinguish'd,—this, be sure,
The first wise aim of conscious Tyranny,
Which knows it may not with the Light endure
But where Light is not, Freedom cannot be;
“Where Freedom is not, there no Virtue is;”
Where Virtue is not, there no Happiness.
15.
If among hateful Tyrants of all times
For endless execration handed down,
One may be found surpassing all in crimes,
One that for infamy should bear the crown,
Napoleon is that man, in guilt the first,
Preeminently bad among the worst.
16.
For not, like Scythian conquerors, did he tread
From his youth up the common path of blood.
Nor like some Eastern Tyrant was he bred
In sensual harems, ignorant of good;—
Their vices from the circumstance have grown
His, by deliberate purpose, were his own.
17.
Not led away by circumstance he err'd,
But from the wicked heart his error came.
By Fortune to the highest place preferr'd,
He sought through evil means an evil aim,
And all his ruthless measures were design'd
To enslave, degrade, and brutalize mankind.
18.
Some barbarous dream of empire to fulfil,
Those iron ages he would have restored,
When Law was but the ruffian soldier's will,
Might govern'd all, the sceptre was the sword,
And Peace, not elsewhere finding where to dwell,
Sought a sad refuge in the convent-cell.
19.
Too far had he succeeded! In his mould
An evil generation had been framed,
By no religion temper'd or controll'd,
By foul examples of all crimes inflamed,
Of faith, of honor, of compassion void;—
Such were the fitting agents he employ'd.
20.
Believing as yon lying Spirit taught,
They to that vain philosophy held fast,
And trusted that, as they began from nought,
To nothing they should needs return at last;
Hence no restraint of conscience, no remorse,
But every baleful passion took its course.
21.
And had they triumph'd, Earth had once again,
To Violence subdued, and impious Pride,
Verged to such state of wickedness, as when
The Giantry of old their God defied,
And Heaven, impatient of a world like this,
Open'd its flood-gates, and broke up the abyss.
22.
That danger is gone by. On Waterloo
The Tyrant's fortune in the scale was weigh'd,—
His fortune and the World's,—and England threw
Her sword into the balance—down it sway'd:
And when in battle first he met that foe,
There he received his mortal overthrow.
23.
O my brave Countrymen, with that I said,—
For then my heart with transport overflow'd,—
O Men of England! nobly have ye paid
The debt which to your ancestors ye owed,
And gather'd for your children's heritage
A glory that shall last from age to age!
24.
And we did well when on our Mountain's height
For Waterloo we raised the festal flame,
And in our triumph taught the startled night
To ring with Wellington's victorious name,
Making the far-off mariner admire
To see the crest of Skiddaw plumed with fire.
25.
The Moon who had in silence visited
His lonely summit from the birth of time,
That hour an unavailing splendor shed,
Lost in the effulgence of the flame sublime,
In whose broad blaze rejoicingly we stood,
And all below a depth of blackest solitude.
26.
Fit theatre for this great joy we chose;
For never since above the abating Flood
Emerging, first that pinnacle arose,
Had cause been given for deeper gratitude,
For prouder joy to every English heart,
When England had so well perform'd her arduous part.
27.
The Muse replied with gentle smile benign,—
Well mayst thou praise the land that gave thee birth,
And bless the Fate which made that country thine;
For of all ages and all parts of earth,
To choose thy time and place did Fate allow,
Wise choice would be this England and this Now.
28.
From bodily and mental bondage, there
Hath Man his full emancipation gain'd;
The viewless and illimitable air
Is not more free than Thought; all unrestrain'd,
Nor pined in want, nor sunk in sensual sloth,
There may the immortal Mind attain its growth.
29.
There, under Freedom's tutelary wing,
Deliberate Courage fears no human foe;
There, undefiled, as in their native spring,
The living waters of Religion flow;
There, like a beacon, the transmitted Light,
Conspicuous to all nations, burneth bright.
30.
The virtuous will she hath, which should aspire
To spread the sphere of happiness and light;
She hath the power to answer her desire,
The wisdom to direct her power aright;
The will, the power, the wisdom thus combined,
What glorious prospects open on mankind!
31.
Behold! she cried, and lifting up her hand,
The shaping elements obey'd her will;—
A vapor gather'd round our lofty stand,
Roll'd in thick volumes o'er the Sacred Hill;
Descending then, its surges far and near
Fill'd all the wide subjacent atmosphere.
32.
As I have seen from Skiddaw's stony height
The fleecy clouds scud round me on their way,
Condense beneath, and hide the vale from sight,
Then, opening, just disclose where Derwent lay
Burnish'd with sunshine like a silver shield,
Or old Enchanter's glass, for magic forms fit field;—
33.
So at her will, in that receding sheet
Of mist wherewith the world was overlaid,
A living picture moved beneath our feet.
A spacious City first was there display'd,
The seat where England from her ancient reign
Doth rule the Ocean as her own domain.
34.
In splendor with those famous cities old,
Whose power it hath surpass'd, it now might vie;
Through many a bridge the wealthy river roll'd;
Aspiring columns rear'd their heads on high;
Triumphal arches spann'd the roads, and gave
Due guerdon to the memory of the brave.
35.
A landscape follow'd, such as might compare
With Flemish fields for well-requited toil:
The wonder-working hand had every where
Subdued all circumstance of stubborn soil;
In fen and moor reclaim'd, rich gardens smiled,
And populous hamlets rose amid the wild.
36.
There the old seaman, on his native shore,
Enjoy'd the competence deserved so well;
The soldier, his dread occupation o'er,
Of well-rewarded service loved to tell;
The gray-hair'd laborer there, whose work was done,
In comfort saw the day of life go down.
37.
Such was the lot of eld; for childhood there
The duties which belong to life was taught:
The good seed, early sown and nursed with care,
This bounteous harvest in its season brought;
Thus youth for manhood, manhood for old age
Prepared, and found their weal in every stage.
38.
Enough of knowledge unto all was given
In wisdom's way to guide their steps on earth,
And make the immortal spirit fit for heaven.
This needful learning was their right of birth;
Further might each, who chose it, persevere;
No mind was lost for lack of culture here.
39.
And that whole happy region swarm'd with life,—
Village and town;—as busy bees in spring,
In sunny days, when sweetest flowers are rife,
Fill fields and gardens with their murmuring.
Oh joy to see the State in perfect health!
Her numbers were her pride, and power, and wealth.
40.
Then saw I, as the magic picture moved,
Her shores enrich'd with many a port and pier;
No gift of liberal Nature unimproved.
The seas their never-failing harvest here
Supplied, as bounteous as the air which fed
Israel, when manna fell from heaven for bread.
41.
Many a tall vessel in her harbors lay,
About to spread its canvass to the breeze,
Bound upon happy errand to convey
The adventurous colonist beyond the seas,
Toward those distant lands where Britain blest
With her redundant life the East and West.
42.
The landscape changed;—a region next was seen,
Where sable swans on rivers yet unfound
Glided through broad savannahs ever green;
Innumerous flocks and herds were feeding round,
And scatter'd farms appear'd, and hamlets fair,
And rising towns, which made another Britain there.
43.
Then, thick as stars which stud the moonless sky,
Green islands in a peaceful sea were seen;
Darken'd no more with blind idolatry,
Nor curst with hideous usages obscene,
But heal'd of leprous crimes, from butchering strife
Deliver'd, and reclaim'd to moral life.
44.
Around the rude Morai, the temple now
Of truth, hosannahs to the Holiest rung:
There, from the Christian's equal marriage-vow,
In natural growth, the household virtues sprung;
Children were taught the paths of heavenly peace,
And age in hope look'd on to its release.
45.
The light those happy Islanders enjoy'd,
Good messengers from Britain had convey'd;
(Where might such bounty wiselier be employ'd?)
One people with their teachers were they made,
Their arts, their language, and their faith the same,
And, blest in all, for all they blest the British name.
46.
Then rose a different land, where loftiest trees
High o'er the grove their fan-like foliage rear;
Where spicy bowers upon the passing breeze
Diffuse their precious fragrance far and near;
And yet untaught to bend his massive knee,
Wisest of brutes, the elephant roams free.
47.
Ministrant there to health and public good,
The busy axe was heard on every side,
Opening new channels, that the noxious wood
With wind and sunshine might be purified,
And that wise Government, the general friend,
Might every where its eye and arm extend.
48.
The half-brutal Bedah came from his retreat,
To human life by human kindness won;
The Cingalese beheld that work complete
Which Holland in her day had well begun;
The Candian, prospering under Britain's reign,
Blest the redeeming hand which broke his chain.
49.
Colors and castes were heeded there no more;
Laws which depraved, degraded, and oppress'd,
Were laid aside, for on that happy shore
All men with equal liberty were blest;
And through the land, the breeze upon its swells
Bore the sweet music of the Sabbath bells.
50.
Again the picture changed; those Isles I saw
With every crime through three long centuries curst,
While unrelenting Avarice gave the law;
Scene of the injured Indians' sufferings first,
Then doom'd, for Europe's lasting shame, to see
The wider-wasting guilt of Slavery.
51.
That foulest blot had been at length effaced;
Slavery was gone, and all the power it gave,
Whereby so long our nature was debased,
Baleful alike to master and to slave.
O lovely Isles! ye were indeed a sight
To fill the spirit with intense delight!
52.
For willing industry and cheerful toil
Perform'd their easy task, with Hope to aid;
And the free children of that happy soil
Dwelt each in peace beneath his cocoa's shade;—
A race who with the European mind
The adapted mould of Africa combined.
53.
Anon, methought that in a spacious Square,
Of some great town the goodly ornament,
Three statutes I beheld, of sculpture fair:
These, said the Muse, are they whom one consent
Shall there deem worthy of the purest fame;—
Knowest thou who best such gratitude may claim?
54.
Clarkson, I answer'd, first; whom to have seen
And known in social hours may be my pride,
Such friendship being praise; and one, I ween,
Is Wilberforce, placed rightly at his side,
Whose eloquent voice in that great cause was heard
So oft and well. But who shall be the third?
55.
Time, said my Teacher, will reveal the name
Of him who with these worthies shall enjoy
The equal honor of enduring fame;—
He who the root of evil shall destroy,
And from our Laws shall blot the accursed word
Of Slave, shall rightly stand with them preferr'd.
56.
Enough! the Goddess cried: with that the cloud
Obey'd, and closed upon the magic scene:
Thus much, quoth she, is to thine hopes allow'd;
Ills may impede, delays may intervene,
But scenes like these the coming age will bless,
If England but pursue the course of righteousness.
57.
On she must go progressively in good,
In wisdom and in weal,—or she must wane.
Like Ocean, she may have her ebb and flood,
But stagnates not. And now her path is plain:
Heaven's first command she may fulfil in peace,
Replenishing the earth with her increase.
58.
Peace she hath won,—with her victorious hand
Hath won through rightful war auspicious peace;
Nor this alone, but that in every land
The withering rule of violence may cease.
Was ever War with such blest victory crown'd?
Did ever Victory with such fruits abound?
59.
Rightly for this shall all good men rejoice,
They most who most abhor all deeds of blood;
Rightly for this with reverential voice
Exalt to Heaven their hymns of gratitude;
For ne'er till now did Heaven thy country bless
With such transcendent cause for joy and thankfulness.
60.
If they in heart all tyranny abhor,
This was the fall of Freedom's direst foe;
If they detest the impious lust of war,
Here hath that passion had its overthrow;—
As the best prospects of mankind are dear,
Their joy should be complete, their prayers of praise sincere.
61.
And thou to whom in spirit at this hour
The vision of thy Country's bliss is given,
Who feelest that she holds her trusted power
To do the will and spread the word of Heaven,—
Hold fast the faith which animates thy mind,
And in thy songs proclaim the hopes of human-kind.
Now, said my heavenly Teacher, all is clear!—
Bear the Beginning and the End in mind,
The course of human things will then appear
Beneath its proper laws; and thou wilt find,
Through all their seeming labyrinth, the plan
Which “vindicates the ways of God to Man.”
2.
Free choice doth Man possess of good or ill;
All were but mockery else. From Wisdom's way,
Too oft, perverted by the tainted will,
Is his rebellious nature drawn astray;
Therefore an inward monitor is given,
A voice that answers to the law of Heaven.
3.
Frail as he is, and as an infant weak,
The knowledge of his weakness is his strength;
For succor is vouchsafed to those who seek
In humble faith sincere; and when at length
Death sets the disimbodied spirit free,
According to their deeds their lot shall be.
4.
Thus, should the chance of private fortune raise
A transitory doubt, Death answers all.
And in the scale of nations, if the ways
Of Providence mysterious we may call,
Yet, rightly view'd, all history doth impart
Comfort, and hope, and strength to the believing heart.
5.
For through the lapse of ages may the course
Of moral good progressive still be seen,
Though mournful dynasties of Fraud and Force,
Dark Vice and purblind Ignorance intervene;
Empires and Nations rise, decay and fall,
But still the Good survives and perseveres through all.
6.
Yea, even in those most lamentable times,
When, every where to wars and woes a prey,
Earth seem'd but one wide theatre of crimes,
Good unperceived had work'd its silent way,
And all those dread convulsions did but clear
The obstructed path to give it free career.
7.
But deem not thou some overruling Fate,
Directing all things with benign decree,
Through all the turmoil of this mortal state,
Appoints that what is best shall therefore be;
Even as from man his future doom proceeds,
So nations rise or fall according to their deeds.
8.
Light at the first was given to human-kind,
And Law was written in the human heart.
If they forsake the Light, perverse of mind,
And wilfully prefer the evil part,
Then to their own devices are they left,
By their own choice of Heaven's support bereft.
9.
The individual culprit may sometimes
Unpunish'd to his after-reckoning go:
Not thus collective man,—for public crimes
Draw on their proper punishment below;
When Nations go astray, from age to age
The effects remain, a fatal heritage.
10.
Bear witness, Egypt, thy huge monuments
Of priestly fraud and tyranny austere!
Bear witness thou, whose only name presents
All holy feelings to religion dear,—
In Earth's dark circlet once the precious gem
Of living light,—O fallen Jerusalem!
11.
See barbarous Africa, on every side
To error, wretchedness, and crimes resign'd!
Behold the vicious Orient, far and wide
Enthrall'd in slavery! As the human mind
Corrupts and goes to wreck, Earth sickens there,
And the contagion taints the ambient air.
12.
They had the Light, and from the Light turn'd;
What marvel if they grope in darkness lost?
They had the Law;—God's natural Law they scorn'd,
And choosing error, thus they pay the cost!
Wherever Falsehood and Oppression reign,
There degradation follows in their train.
13.
What, then, in these late days had Europe been,
This moral, intellectual heart of earth,—
From which the nations who lie dead in sin
Should one day yet receive their second birth,—
To what had she been sunk if brutal Force
Had taken unrestrain'd its impious course!
14.
The Light had been extinguish'd,—this, be sure,
The first wise aim of conscious Tyranny,
Which knows it may not with the Light endure
But where Light is not, Freedom cannot be;
“Where Freedom is not, there no Virtue is;”
Where Virtue is not, there no Happiness.
15.
If among hateful Tyrants of all times
For endless execration handed down,
One may be found surpassing all in crimes,
One that for infamy should bear the crown,
Napoleon is that man, in guilt the first,
Preeminently bad among the worst.
16.
For not, like Scythian conquerors, did he tread
From his youth up the common path of blood.
Nor like some Eastern Tyrant was he bred
In sensual harems, ignorant of good;—
Their vices from the circumstance have grown
His, by deliberate purpose, were his own.
17.
Not led away by circumstance he err'd,
But from the wicked heart his error came.
By Fortune to the highest place preferr'd,
He sought through evil means an evil aim,
And all his ruthless measures were design'd
To enslave, degrade, and brutalize mankind.
18.
Some barbarous dream of empire to fulfil,
Those iron ages he would have restored,
When Law was but the ruffian soldier's will,
Might govern'd all, the sceptre was the sword,
And Peace, not elsewhere finding where to dwell,
Sought a sad refuge in the convent-cell.
19.
Too far had he succeeded! In his mould
An evil generation had been framed,
By no religion temper'd or controll'd,
By foul examples of all crimes inflamed,
Of faith, of honor, of compassion void;—
Such were the fitting agents he employ'd.
20.
Believing as yon lying Spirit taught,
They to that vain philosophy held fast,
And trusted that, as they began from nought,
To nothing they should needs return at last;
Hence no restraint of conscience, no remorse,
But every baleful passion took its course.
21.
And had they triumph'd, Earth had once again,
To Violence subdued, and impious Pride,
Verged to such state of wickedness, as when
The Giantry of old their God defied,
And Heaven, impatient of a world like this,
Open'd its flood-gates, and broke up the abyss.
22.
That danger is gone by. On Waterloo
The Tyrant's fortune in the scale was weigh'd,—
His fortune and the World's,—and England threw
Her sword into the balance—down it sway'd:
And when in battle first he met that foe,
There he received his mortal overthrow.
23.
O my brave Countrymen, with that I said,—
For then my heart with transport overflow'd,—
O Men of England! nobly have ye paid
The debt which to your ancestors ye owed,
And gather'd for your children's heritage
A glory that shall last from age to age!
24.
And we did well when on our Mountain's height
For Waterloo we raised the festal flame,
And in our triumph taught the startled night
To ring with Wellington's victorious name,
Making the far-off mariner admire
To see the crest of Skiddaw plumed with fire.
25.
The Moon who had in silence visited
His lonely summit from the birth of time,
That hour an unavailing splendor shed,
Lost in the effulgence of the flame sublime,
In whose broad blaze rejoicingly we stood,
And all below a depth of blackest solitude.
26.
Fit theatre for this great joy we chose;
For never since above the abating Flood
Emerging, first that pinnacle arose,
Had cause been given for deeper gratitude,
For prouder joy to every English heart,
When England had so well perform'd her arduous part.
27.
The Muse replied with gentle smile benign,—
Well mayst thou praise the land that gave thee birth,
And bless the Fate which made that country thine;
For of all ages and all parts of earth,
To choose thy time and place did Fate allow,
Wise choice would be this England and this Now.
28.
From bodily and mental bondage, there
Hath Man his full emancipation gain'd;
The viewless and illimitable air
Is not more free than Thought; all unrestrain'd,
Nor pined in want, nor sunk in sensual sloth,
There may the immortal Mind attain its growth.
29.
There, under Freedom's tutelary wing,
Deliberate Courage fears no human foe;
There, undefiled, as in their native spring,
The living waters of Religion flow;
There, like a beacon, the transmitted Light,
Conspicuous to all nations, burneth bright.
30.
The virtuous will she hath, which should aspire
To spread the sphere of happiness and light;
She hath the power to answer her desire,
The wisdom to direct her power aright;
The will, the power, the wisdom thus combined,
What glorious prospects open on mankind!
31.
Behold! she cried, and lifting up her hand,
The shaping elements obey'd her will;—
A vapor gather'd round our lofty stand,
Roll'd in thick volumes o'er the Sacred Hill;
Descending then, its surges far and near
Fill'd all the wide subjacent atmosphere.
32.
As I have seen from Skiddaw's stony height
The fleecy clouds scud round me on their way,
Condense beneath, and hide the vale from sight,
Then, opening, just disclose where Derwent lay
Burnish'd with sunshine like a silver shield,
Or old Enchanter's glass, for magic forms fit field;—
33.
So at her will, in that receding sheet
Of mist wherewith the world was overlaid,
A living picture moved beneath our feet.
A spacious City first was there display'd,
The seat where England from her ancient reign
Doth rule the Ocean as her own domain.
34.
In splendor with those famous cities old,
Whose power it hath surpass'd, it now might vie;
Through many a bridge the wealthy river roll'd;
Aspiring columns rear'd their heads on high;
Triumphal arches spann'd the roads, and gave
Due guerdon to the memory of the brave.
35.
A landscape follow'd, such as might compare
With Flemish fields for well-requited toil:
The wonder-working hand had every where
Subdued all circumstance of stubborn soil;
In fen and moor reclaim'd, rich gardens smiled,
And populous hamlets rose amid the wild.
36.
There the old seaman, on his native shore,
Enjoy'd the competence deserved so well;
The soldier, his dread occupation o'er,
Of well-rewarded service loved to tell;
The gray-hair'd laborer there, whose work was done,
In comfort saw the day of life go down.
37.
Such was the lot of eld; for childhood there
The duties which belong to life was taught:
The good seed, early sown and nursed with care,
This bounteous harvest in its season brought;
Thus youth for manhood, manhood for old age
Prepared, and found their weal in every stage.
38.
Enough of knowledge unto all was given
In wisdom's way to guide their steps on earth,
And make the immortal spirit fit for heaven.
This needful learning was their right of birth;
Further might each, who chose it, persevere;
No mind was lost for lack of culture here.
39.
And that whole happy region swarm'd with life,—
Village and town;—as busy bees in spring,
In sunny days, when sweetest flowers are rife,
Fill fields and gardens with their murmuring.
Oh joy to see the State in perfect health!
Her numbers were her pride, and power, and wealth.
40.
Then saw I, as the magic picture moved,
Her shores enrich'd with many a port and pier;
No gift of liberal Nature unimproved.
The seas their never-failing harvest here
Supplied, as bounteous as the air which fed
Israel, when manna fell from heaven for bread.
41.
Many a tall vessel in her harbors lay,
About to spread its canvass to the breeze,
Bound upon happy errand to convey
The adventurous colonist beyond the seas,
Toward those distant lands where Britain blest
With her redundant life the East and West.
42.
The landscape changed;—a region next was seen,
Where sable swans on rivers yet unfound
Glided through broad savannahs ever green;
Innumerous flocks and herds were feeding round,
And scatter'd farms appear'd, and hamlets fair,
And rising towns, which made another Britain there.
43.
Then, thick as stars which stud the moonless sky,
Green islands in a peaceful sea were seen;
Darken'd no more with blind idolatry,
Nor curst with hideous usages obscene,
But heal'd of leprous crimes, from butchering strife
Deliver'd, and reclaim'd to moral life.
44.
Around the rude Morai, the temple now
Of truth, hosannahs to the Holiest rung:
There, from the Christian's equal marriage-vow,
In natural growth, the household virtues sprung;
Children were taught the paths of heavenly peace,
And age in hope look'd on to its release.
45.
The light those happy Islanders enjoy'd,
Good messengers from Britain had convey'd;
(Where might such bounty wiselier be employ'd?)
One people with their teachers were they made,
Their arts, their language, and their faith the same,
And, blest in all, for all they blest the British name.
46.
Then rose a different land, where loftiest trees
High o'er the grove their fan-like foliage rear;
Where spicy bowers upon the passing breeze
Diffuse their precious fragrance far and near;
And yet untaught to bend his massive knee,
Wisest of brutes, the elephant roams free.
47.
Ministrant there to health and public good,
The busy axe was heard on every side,
Opening new channels, that the noxious wood
With wind and sunshine might be purified,
And that wise Government, the general friend,
Might every where its eye and arm extend.
48.
The half-brutal Bedah came from his retreat,
To human life by human kindness won;
The Cingalese beheld that work complete
Which Holland in her day had well begun;
The Candian, prospering under Britain's reign,
Blest the redeeming hand which broke his chain.
49.
Colors and castes were heeded there no more;
Laws which depraved, degraded, and oppress'd,
Were laid aside, for on that happy shore
All men with equal liberty were blest;
And through the land, the breeze upon its swells
Bore the sweet music of the Sabbath bells.
50.
Again the picture changed; those Isles I saw
With every crime through three long centuries curst,
While unrelenting Avarice gave the law;
Scene of the injured Indians' sufferings first,
Then doom'd, for Europe's lasting shame, to see
The wider-wasting guilt of Slavery.
51.
That foulest blot had been at length effaced;
Slavery was gone, and all the power it gave,
Whereby so long our nature was debased,
Baleful alike to master and to slave.
O lovely Isles! ye were indeed a sight
To fill the spirit with intense delight!
52.
For willing industry and cheerful toil
Perform'd their easy task, with Hope to aid;
And the free children of that happy soil
Dwelt each in peace beneath his cocoa's shade;—
A race who with the European mind
The adapted mould of Africa combined.
53.
Anon, methought that in a spacious Square,
Of some great town the goodly ornament,
Three statutes I beheld, of sculpture fair:
These, said the Muse, are they whom one consent
Shall there deem worthy of the purest fame;—
Knowest thou who best such gratitude may claim?
54.
Clarkson, I answer'd, first; whom to have seen
And known in social hours may be my pride,
Such friendship being praise; and one, I ween,
Is Wilberforce, placed rightly at his side,
Whose eloquent voice in that great cause was heard
So oft and well. But who shall be the third?
55.
Time, said my Teacher, will reveal the name
Of him who with these worthies shall enjoy
The equal honor of enduring fame;—
He who the root of evil shall destroy,
And from our Laws shall blot the accursed word
Of Slave, shall rightly stand with them preferr'd.
56.
Enough! the Goddess cried: with that the cloud
Obey'd, and closed upon the magic scene:
Thus much, quoth she, is to thine hopes allow'd;
Ills may impede, delays may intervene,
But scenes like these the coming age will bless,
If England but pursue the course of righteousness.
57.
On she must go progressively in good,
In wisdom and in weal,—or she must wane.
Like Ocean, she may have her ebb and flood,
But stagnates not. And now her path is plain:
Heaven's first command she may fulfil in peace,
Replenishing the earth with her increase.
58.
Peace she hath won,—with her victorious hand
Hath won through rightful war auspicious peace;
Nor this alone, but that in every land
The withering rule of violence may cease.
Was ever War with such blest victory crown'd?
Did ever Victory with such fruits abound?
59.
Rightly for this shall all good men rejoice,
They most who most abhor all deeds of blood;
Rightly for this with reverential voice
Exalt to Heaven their hymns of gratitude;
For ne'er till now did Heaven thy country bless
With such transcendent cause for joy and thankfulness.
60.
If they in heart all tyranny abhor,
This was the fall of Freedom's direst foe;
If they detest the impious lust of war,
Here hath that passion had its overthrow;—
As the best prospects of mankind are dear,
Their joy should be complete, their prayers of praise sincere.
61.
And thou to whom in spirit at this hour
The vision of thy Country's bliss is given,
Who feelest that she holds her trusted power
To do the will and spread the word of Heaven,—
Hold fast the faith which animates thy mind,
And in thy songs proclaim the hopes of human-kind.
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