Classic Poem

RESPECTFULLY INSCRIBED TO THE SOCIETY FOR THE RELIEF OF
PERSONS IMPRISONED FOR SMALL DEBTS .

What are the deeds that fill the historic page,
And most the plaudits of the world engage?
What actions most attract the eyes of Fame,
And from her voice the loudest paeans claim?
The conqueror's deeds,....the awful works of death,....
For them the trophied bust, the flatterer's breath,
He, he alone a nation's praise enjoys,
Whose noble daring dazzles, but destroys;
While the blest deeds performed by Pity's hand
Nor praise nor notice from the world command:
Her useful charities to virtue dear,
Lost in the blaze of victories, disappear;
E'en the blest Howard's, long the boast of fame,
To Abercrombie's shines a second name.

So, when the traveller various countries seeks,
Not the smooth-flowing stream his praise bespeaks,
Which, as it humbly fills its narrow bound,
Diffuses verdure, plenty, health, around:
Unseen by him, perhaps, its waters glide;
He seeks the foaming cataract's lofty tide;
And while, creating wonder, awe, delight,
The frantic torrent sparkles to the sight,
He sees, admiring, the dread flood expand
That scatters waste and havoc o'er the land.

But though I Valour's offspring love to praise,
To Pity's humbler sons shall flow my lays.
To me the warrior's brightest wreath appears
Steeped in the orphan's, parent's, widow's, tears.
More blest, to me one deed of Christian love,
Than all the feats which British prowess prove:
More dear than e'en our greatest chief, to me,
Are those combined to set the debtor free,....
Those who the victim of misfortune's hour
To useful labour, and his home, restore,....
Snatch him from indolence, from noxious air,
From vile associates, from his own despair,
Destructive habits, misery's baleful gloom,
An useless life, and an untimely tomb.
Blest men! to you, howe'er you shrink from fame,
Belongs the patriot's prostituted name.
If Rome to him a civic garland gave,
Who of one citizen the life could save,
What should your grateful country give to you?
What to your patriot services is due?
From you Society true aid derives;
Your timely bounty saves unnumbered lives;
You countless children to her breast restore;
Your soothing kindness makes the murmuring poor
Their rage at fortune's partial smiles repress,....
Since wealth in you appears the power to bless.
But what on you could public praise bestow?
From your own hearts your best reward must flow:
And when, by fashion led, you chance to stray
Where busy triflers bow to Pleasure's sway,
As the phosphoric flame, though always bright,
Shines in pure air with most refulgent light,....
So still for you to whose benignant hearts
The sense of conscious worth pure joy imparts,
Pleasure's bright rose shall seem fresh sweets to shed,
And its soft blush assume a livelier red.

But hail to all who others' sufferings feel,
And ills they pity nobly strive to heal!
Whether they rear the felon's orphan child,
Or sooth the stranger from his home exiled,
Or helpless foundlings to their care receive,
Or bid the captive debtor cease to grieve,....
Or, urged by justice to the virtuous deed,
The cause of Afric's injured offspring plead;....
Theirs is the greatest bliss on earth we find;
Bliss nought can harm.... a self-approving mind:
And when around them death's dark night shall gloom,
Theirs be the day that beams beyond the tomb!