Classic Poem

M ETHOUGHT I heard a voice cry, " Fear no more!
Be dareful, bold, and vigilant in arms.
Genius of Britain! thine Avenger hail
With spirit like his own! let not his feet
Be noiseless or inaudible — though 'lated
Since Calpe's trophies memoriz'd his fame,
The 'vantage and the curtesy of daring,
That he seems rapt withal! — Herald him thus
Into the Royal sight! Enkindled there,
Cherish his fame, till it shall cleave to th' mould
(With use's aid) in that rich mansionry
Of honours deep and broad! Oh, champion him!
To th' swelling acts of youth in life's decline
By fair probation with availing praise.
I' th' fitful fever of the People's love
Norchange nor envy reach him — Night's black agents
Their venom pour in vain! Giddy opinion
Run backward never interdicting him
Whom late it minion'd! "