Page:An Ode to the Country Gentlemen of England - Akenside (1758).djvu/6

 But who are ye? from Ebro's loit'ring sons To Tiber's pageants, to the sports of Seine; From Rhine's frail palaces to Danube's thrones And cities bord'ring on the Cimbric main, Ye lost, ye self-deserted? whose proud lords Have baffled your tame hands, and giv'n your swords To slavish ruffians hir'd for their command: These, at some greedy monk's or harlot's nod, See rifled nations crouch beneath their rod: These are the public will, the reason of the land.

Thou, heedless Albion, what, alas! the while Dost thou presume? O inexpert in arms, Yet vain of freedom, how dost thou beguile With dreams of hope these near and loud alarms? Thy splendid home, thy plan of laws renown'd, The praise and envy of the nations round, What care hast thou to guard from fortune's sway? Amid the storms of war, how soon may all The lofty pile from its foundations fall, Of ages the proud toil, the ruin of a day! IV. No: