Retrospect, The. A Pindaric Ode

Ah Stubborn Isle!
So late from slavish bondage freed,
(of Civil Wars the precious meed;)
Canst thou so soon forget the Toyl,
The Cruel and Imperious Law,
Exacting Brick, and yet denying Straw?
Or the fam'd Cheats of State Magicians,
Religious Polititians
Their Rods to Serpents turned by flight
That hiss'd and stung
While the amazed throng
In vain attempted to escape by flight,
And how those guilded Serpents Pow'r
Did even Moses sacred Rod devour.

2.

Then every River and every Flood
Was turned into blood,
The Frogs of Jealousies and Fears
Croak'd dangers in our Ears.
Then swarms of Lice and Guilded Flies,
Sects and Schisms and heresies
In numerous throngs came in
And turn'd our Prayers into sin.
A grievous Murrain followed next
Which through the Nation flew
And Men like Beasts it slew.
Biles and blains the State perplext
Rebellious rancorous sores
Broke and discharg'd their long hid putrid stores.

3.

A dismal plague of Iron hail
And leaden Rain
With dreadful fire and thunder mingled fell,
A fire that came from Hell.
Religion and true Loyalty were slain
Whilest Rebels did prevail
And Albion look'd like Sodoms smaoaking Plain.
Locust Committiees next bore sway
And what the Hail had left they swept away
And sorrow darkened every beam of day.
But oh! the Plague of Plagues was still behind
The Purple first born of the Throne
(What can his blood atone!)
By those destroying Angels first confin'd,
And then with Pompous state
The impudent fromality
Of treacherous Disloyalty,
Was crown'd a Martyr at his Royal Gate.
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