To the Right Reverend E DWARD L — d V ERNON , BISHOP OF CARLISLE.
Accept , my Lord, the poor, the humble lay,
The only tribute poverty can pay,
Can pay at merit's, not at flatt'ry's shrine,
Where all to rev'rence and admire incline;
Nor yet condemn unheard the faithful strain,
Which only waits permission to explain,
And tell the cause that urges this address,
Unmeaning to offend, to injure less;
To servile adulation quite unknown,
My offering breathes sincerity alone;
Vain tho' it seem, no pride inspires my mind,
Your approbation's all I wish to find;
Nay even that were vanity to hope,
And marks ambition in its amplest scope,
Did not your peerless goodness all confess,
Alone excite and sanction this address;
Behold in humble mien the suppliant muse,
Who more for pardon than for plaudit sues,
Fearful she blushes lest unmeant offence
Should raise suspicion of impertinence:
But say what obvious reasons can appear
To warrant this extravagance of fear?
Why beats the heart with anxious doubts opprest?
Why blush the cheek? why heave the flutter'd breast?
From you, my L — d, what need to apprehend
One cause of pain, to all mankind a friend;
From you, whose heart, with every virtue stor'd,
Seeks but for place its blessings to afford.
With heav'n-inspir'd benevolence replete,
With all that's generous, all that's good, that's great,
The single thought displeasure to suspect,
Were to offend by methods indirect;
The thought injurious could but plead in vain
For pardon, which it should not hope to gain:
Let no false founded fears a passage find,
To rashly frame and prejudice the mind;
Where perfect goodness regulate the soul,
No baseness can its rectitude controul:
Then, hush my doubts! avaunt my timid fears?
A ray of confidence my bosom cheers:
I feel my heart the warmest raptures raise,
To join the public in the public praise;
Where fir'd by emulation all conspire
Which to applaud you most, and most admire;
'Tis your benevolence swells the grateful song,
Your generous heart inspires the ardent throng:
See round you press whole legions of the poor,
And hosts of supplicants beset your door;
The weak, the wretched, indigent, opprest,
All that mischance or error has distrest,
Alike excited by your generous name,
Your equal pity and assistance claim:
Nor claim in vain, not readier moves the tongue,
To tell the tales of wretchedness and wrong,
Than moves your hand, impatient for relief,
To soothe their pains and mitigate their grief;
Nor can the tales of woe alone controul
Your kind attention and engross your soul:
For more extensive purposes you live,
Than merely individual joys to give;
With private care the public you unite
And with a subject's view a nation's right;
In various functions equally you wait,
Alike an ornament to church and state,
Ah! say religion! much degraded maid,
Whom scotics more than redicule has made:
To thee hat braver champion shall resort,
Thy sacred truths to publish and support,
With oothing precepts virtue to instil,
And by example to retard from ill,
A friend to virtue in whatever guise,
A equal enemy to practis'd vice;
'Tis not the shew of sanctity can move
His heart the base appearance to approve;
Abash'd imposture shrinks before his eyes,
Whilst mock devotion in confusion flies,
'Tis not on him pretension shall impose,
All fallacy his judgment overthrows,
Us'd to discriminate 'twixt false and true,
He sees their real worth at single view;
Nor can the pomp of pride, the glare of state,
The pageants that on proud ambition wait,
From him a more than due esteem command,
Who knows to value as to understand;
'Tis not the outward ornaments of show,
On man a worth intrinsic can bestow;
His value rises from a different cause;
And merit's self alone commands applause;
'Tis but to true desert alone you give
The plaudit genius ever should receive,
And great or base, impertinent or wise,
By justice sway'd, encourage or despise,
Then say of these accomplishments passest,
Why shouldst thou, Muse, recline thy fearful crest!
Bear up thy head, and with those scruples scope,
That only stifle and extinguish hope:
That hand which deals munificence around,
That heart where all benevolence is found,
Which good dispensing yields to each degree,
Will from necessity remember thee;
Will not neglect the toiling poor who claim
The character of an unblemish'd name.
By him encourag'd soon the muse shall rear
Her drooping head and quit each former fear,
With joyous exultation lift her voice,
To join the public and with them rejoice;
And, as the circling years revolve along,
Have annual cause to chaunt her grateful song;
And may those years be numerous, and those days.
The humble Poet most sincerely prays.
Accept , my Lord, the poor, the humble lay,
The only tribute poverty can pay,
Can pay at merit's, not at flatt'ry's shrine,
Where all to rev'rence and admire incline;
Nor yet condemn unheard the faithful strain,
Which only waits permission to explain,
And tell the cause that urges this address,
Unmeaning to offend, to injure less;
To servile adulation quite unknown,
My offering breathes sincerity alone;
Vain tho' it seem, no pride inspires my mind,
Your approbation's all I wish to find;
Nay even that were vanity to hope,
And marks ambition in its amplest scope,
Did not your peerless goodness all confess,
Alone excite and sanction this address;
Behold in humble mien the suppliant muse,
Who more for pardon than for plaudit sues,
Fearful she blushes lest unmeant offence
Should raise suspicion of impertinence:
But say what obvious reasons can appear
To warrant this extravagance of fear?
Why beats the heart with anxious doubts opprest?
Why blush the cheek? why heave the flutter'd breast?
From you, my L — d, what need to apprehend
One cause of pain, to all mankind a friend;
From you, whose heart, with every virtue stor'd,
Seeks but for place its blessings to afford.
With heav'n-inspir'd benevolence replete,
With all that's generous, all that's good, that's great,
The single thought displeasure to suspect,
Were to offend by methods indirect;
The thought injurious could but plead in vain
For pardon, which it should not hope to gain:
Let no false founded fears a passage find,
To rashly frame and prejudice the mind;
Where perfect goodness regulate the soul,
No baseness can its rectitude controul:
Then, hush my doubts! avaunt my timid fears?
A ray of confidence my bosom cheers:
I feel my heart the warmest raptures raise,
To join the public in the public praise;
Where fir'd by emulation all conspire
Which to applaud you most, and most admire;
'Tis your benevolence swells the grateful song,
Your generous heart inspires the ardent throng:
See round you press whole legions of the poor,
And hosts of supplicants beset your door;
The weak, the wretched, indigent, opprest,
All that mischance or error has distrest,
Alike excited by your generous name,
Your equal pity and assistance claim:
Nor claim in vain, not readier moves the tongue,
To tell the tales of wretchedness and wrong,
Than moves your hand, impatient for relief,
To soothe their pains and mitigate their grief;
Nor can the tales of woe alone controul
Your kind attention and engross your soul:
For more extensive purposes you live,
Than merely individual joys to give;
With private care the public you unite
And with a subject's view a nation's right;
In various functions equally you wait,
Alike an ornament to church and state,
Ah! say religion! much degraded maid,
Whom scotics more than redicule has made:
To thee hat braver champion shall resort,
Thy sacred truths to publish and support,
With oothing precepts virtue to instil,
And by example to retard from ill,
A friend to virtue in whatever guise,
A equal enemy to practis'd vice;
'Tis not the shew of sanctity can move
His heart the base appearance to approve;
Abash'd imposture shrinks before his eyes,
Whilst mock devotion in confusion flies,
'Tis not on him pretension shall impose,
All fallacy his judgment overthrows,
Us'd to discriminate 'twixt false and true,
He sees their real worth at single view;
Nor can the pomp of pride, the glare of state,
The pageants that on proud ambition wait,
From him a more than due esteem command,
Who knows to value as to understand;
'Tis not the outward ornaments of show,
On man a worth intrinsic can bestow;
His value rises from a different cause;
And merit's self alone commands applause;
'Tis but to true desert alone you give
The plaudit genius ever should receive,
And great or base, impertinent or wise,
By justice sway'd, encourage or despise,
Then say of these accomplishments passest,
Why shouldst thou, Muse, recline thy fearful crest!
Bear up thy head, and with those scruples scope,
That only stifle and extinguish hope:
That hand which deals munificence around,
That heart where all benevolence is found,
Which good dispensing yields to each degree,
Will from necessity remember thee;
Will not neglect the toiling poor who claim
The character of an unblemish'd name.
By him encourag'd soon the muse shall rear
Her drooping head and quit each former fear,
With joyous exultation lift her voice,
To join the public and with them rejoice;
And, as the circling years revolve along,
Have annual cause to chaunt her grateful song;
And may those years be numerous, and those days.
The humble Poet most sincerely prays.