Classic Poem

Forgive me, Hampden's aweful shade!
And Milton's , more severe!
Nor with your civic frowns degrade
The moralizing tear!

No slave am I to Regal power,
In Stuart's Eastern reign: —
I hail and bless the sacred hour
That broke the Tyrant's chain.

But now the Champion's work is done,
And Freedom's palm ensur'd;
The battle has been proudly won,
And Kings may be endur'd.

Here, subjugated Prince, to thee
Compassion we afford;
And, from thy baneful councils free,
Thy virtues have restor'd.

We mourn a confidence betray'd,
A doom insulted here: —
The King no proselyte has made,
The Man shall have a tear.

His Faith Connubial we admire;
We love the Parent's heart: —
Proud of the Patriot Hero's fire,
We hate the Robber's part.

When Hampden's freedom is oppress'd,
The Monarch 's in disgrace;
But the Usurper we detest —
A Tyrant in his place.

'Twas thus upon the Gallic Shore
That Regal honours fell; —
But who the rifled honours bore,
His infamy shall tell.

A lesson from the Pilgrim take!
" With temper punish guilt!
" Be careful how the rock you shake
" On which your Freedom's built! "