Classic Poem

In days of yore when, free and unconfin'd,
Man rov'd at large, and his own Will was law,
No ties restrain'd his selfish savage Mind;
The Mighty kept the Weak in slavish awe.
Till some sagacious Soul, pervading thro' the whole,
To Harmony reduc'd each jarring string;
And now the tuneful Band obeys the Master's hand,
While Echo sounds responsive Church and King!

In these, our vain and motley modern times,
When Whim, not Reason blindly leads the way;
And Virtue's varnish covers o'er our crimes,
Abhorrent to the honest face of Day;
Now Freedom strikes the Lyre, and vainly would inspire
Celestial Ardor to each broken String:
But we despise the Foe, and by Experience know
No Harmony's compleat without Church and King.

Tho' Rage vindictive Measures would inspire,
And hurl promiscuous Ruin far and wide;
Yet Mercy checks the British Hero's fire
And Pity gently pours her softening tide.
By Fate's supreme Decree this happy Year shall see
The Royal Standard ev'ry Straggler bring,
Like Sheep, into the Fold from which they thoughtless stroll'd,
To join in lasting Chorus of Church and King.

Then, let each firm and trusty loyal Heart
Relate with glee his tale of suff'ring o'er;
And think with pride, he bravely play'd his part
And reach'd triumphant the long wish'd for shore.
The wreath let Victory twine, immortal and divine;
The Laurel and the Bay let Fame now bring:
While Time shall hobble round, all Pleasures shall abound,
And the Virtues and Graces crown Church and King.