Let others hail the rising sun,
I bow to that whose course is run,
Which sets in endless night;
Whose rays benignant blessed this isle,
Made peaceful nature round us smile
With calm but cheerful light.
No bounty past provokes my praise,
No future prospects prompt my lays,
From real grief they flow;
I catch the alarm from Britain's fears,
My sorrows fall with Britain's tears,
And join a nation's woe.
See, as you pass the crowded street,
Despondence clouds each face you meet,
All their lost friend deplore.
You read in every pensive eye,
You hear in every broken sigh
That Pelham is no more.
If thus each Briton be alarmed
Whom but his distant influence warmed,
What grief their breasts must rend
Who, in his private virtues blessed,
By nature's dearest ties possessed
The husband, father, friend.
What, mute ye bards—no mournful verse,
No chaplets to adorn his hearse,
To crown the good and just?
Your flowers in warmer regions bloom,
You seek no pensions from the tomb,
No laurels from the dust.
When power departed with his breath
The sons of flattery fled from death:
Such insects swarm at noon.
Not for herself my muse is grieved,
She never asked, nor e'er received
One ministerial boon.
Hath some peculiar strange offence
Against us armed Omnipotence,
To check the nation's pride?
Behold the appointed punishment,
At length the vengeful bolt is sent;
It fell when Pelham died.
Unchecked by shame, unawed by dread,
When vice triumphant rears her head,
Vengeance can sleep no more;
The evil angel stalks at large,
The good submits, resigns his charge,
And quits the unhallowed shore.
The same sad morn to Church and State
(So for our sins 'twas fixed by fate)
A double stroke was given.
Black as the whirlwinds of the north
St. John's fell genius issued forth,
And Pelham fled to heaven.
By angels watched in Eden's bowers,
Our parents passed their peaceful hours,
Nor guilt nor pain they knew;
But on the day which ushered in
The hell-born train of mortal sin
The heavenly guards withdrew.
Look down much-honoured shade below.
Still let thy pity aid our woe.
Stretch out thy healing hand.
Resume those feelings which on earth
Proclaimed thy patriot love and worth
And saved a sinking land.
Search with thy more than mortal eye
The breasts of all thy friends, descry
What there has got possession.
See if thy unsuspecting heart
In some for truth mistook not art,
For principle profession.
From these, the pests of human kind,
Whom royal bounty cannot bind,
Protect our parent King.
Unmask their treachery to his sight,
Drag forth the vipers into light
And crush them ere they sting.
If such his trust and honours share,
Again exert thy guardian care,
Each venomed heart disclose.
On him, on him, our all depends.
Oh save him from his treacherous friends—
He cannot fear his foes.
Who'er shall at the helm preside,
Still let thy prudence be his guide
To stem the troubled wave;
But chiefly whisper in his ear
That George is open, just, sincere,
And dares to scorn a knave.
No selfish views to oppress mankind,
No mad ambition fired thy mind,
To purchase fame with blood;
Thy bosom glowed with purer heat,
Convinced that to be truly great
Is only to be good.
To hear no lawless passion's call,
To serve thy King yet feel for all,
Such was thy glorious plan.
Wisdom with generous love took part,
Together worked thy head and heart,
The minister and man.
Unite ye kindred sons of worth,
Strangle bold faction in its birth,
Be Britain's weal your view.
For this great end let all combine,
Let virtue link each fair design
And Pelham live in you.
I bow to that whose course is run,
Which sets in endless night;
Whose rays benignant blessed this isle,
Made peaceful nature round us smile
With calm but cheerful light.
No bounty past provokes my praise,
No future prospects prompt my lays,
From real grief they flow;
I catch the alarm from Britain's fears,
My sorrows fall with Britain's tears,
And join a nation's woe.
See, as you pass the crowded street,
Despondence clouds each face you meet,
All their lost friend deplore.
You read in every pensive eye,
You hear in every broken sigh
That Pelham is no more.
If thus each Briton be alarmed
Whom but his distant influence warmed,
What grief their breasts must rend
Who, in his private virtues blessed,
By nature's dearest ties possessed
The husband, father, friend.
What, mute ye bards—no mournful verse,
No chaplets to adorn his hearse,
To crown the good and just?
Your flowers in warmer regions bloom,
You seek no pensions from the tomb,
No laurels from the dust.
When power departed with his breath
The sons of flattery fled from death:
Such insects swarm at noon.
Not for herself my muse is grieved,
She never asked, nor e'er received
One ministerial boon.
Hath some peculiar strange offence
Against us armed Omnipotence,
To check the nation's pride?
Behold the appointed punishment,
At length the vengeful bolt is sent;
It fell when Pelham died.
Unchecked by shame, unawed by dread,
When vice triumphant rears her head,
Vengeance can sleep no more;
The evil angel stalks at large,
The good submits, resigns his charge,
And quits the unhallowed shore.
The same sad morn to Church and State
(So for our sins 'twas fixed by fate)
A double stroke was given.
Black as the whirlwinds of the north
St. John's fell genius issued forth,
And Pelham fled to heaven.
By angels watched in Eden's bowers,
Our parents passed their peaceful hours,
Nor guilt nor pain they knew;
But on the day which ushered in
The hell-born train of mortal sin
The heavenly guards withdrew.
Look down much-honoured shade below.
Still let thy pity aid our woe.
Stretch out thy healing hand.
Resume those feelings which on earth
Proclaimed thy patriot love and worth
And saved a sinking land.
Search with thy more than mortal eye
The breasts of all thy friends, descry
What there has got possession.
See if thy unsuspecting heart
In some for truth mistook not art,
For principle profession.
From these, the pests of human kind,
Whom royal bounty cannot bind,
Protect our parent King.
Unmask their treachery to his sight,
Drag forth the vipers into light
And crush them ere they sting.
If such his trust and honours share,
Again exert thy guardian care,
Each venomed heart disclose.
On him, on him, our all depends.
Oh save him from his treacherous friends—
He cannot fear his foes.
Who'er shall at the helm preside,
Still let thy prudence be his guide
To stem the troubled wave;
But chiefly whisper in his ear
That George is open, just, sincere,
And dares to scorn a knave.
No selfish views to oppress mankind,
No mad ambition fired thy mind,
To purchase fame with blood;
Thy bosom glowed with purer heat,
Convinced that to be truly great
Is only to be good.
To hear no lawless passion's call,
To serve thy King yet feel for all,
Such was thy glorious plan.
Wisdom with generous love took part,
Together worked thy head and heart,
The minister and man.
Unite ye kindred sons of worth,
Strangle bold faction in its birth,
Be Britain's weal your view.
For this great end let all combine,
Let virtue link each fair design
And Pelham live in you.