Page:The poetical works of William Cowper (IA poeticalworksof00cowp).pdf/138

54 Filled with as much true merriment and glee, As if he heard his king say — Slave be free. Thus happiness depends, as nature shows, Less on exterior things than most suppose. Vigilant over all that he has made, Kind Providence attends with gracious aid, Bids equity throughout his works prevail, And weighs the nations in an even scale; He can encourage slavery to a smile, And fill with discontent a British isle. A. Freeman and slave then, if the case be such, Stand on a level, and you prove too much. If all men indiscriminately share, His fostering power and tutelary care, As well be yoked by despotism's hand, As dwell at large in Britain's chartered land. B. No. Freedom has a thousand charms to show, That slaves, howe'er contented, never know. The mind attains beneath her happy reign, The growth that nature meant she should attain. The varied fields of science, ever new, Opening and wider opening on her view, She ventures onward with a prosperous force, While no base fear impedes her in her course. Religion, richest favour of the skies, Stands most revealed before the freeman's eyes; No shades of superstition blot the day, Liberty chases all that gloom away; The soul, emancipated, unoppressed, Free to prove all things and hold fast the best, Learns much, and to a thousand listening minds, Communicates with joy the good she finds. Courage in arms, and ever prompt to show His manly forehead to the fiercest foe; Glorious in war, but for the sake of peace, His spirits rising as his toils increase, Guards well what arts and industry have won, And Freedom claims him for her first-born son. Slaves fight for what were better cast away, The chain that binds them, and a tyrant's sway, But they that fight for freedom, undertake The noblest cause mankind can have at stake, Religion, virtue, truth, whate'er we call A blessing, freedom is the pledge of all. Oh Liberty! the prisoners pleasing dream, The poet's muse, his passion and his theme, Genius is thine, and thou art Fancy's nurse, Lost without thee the ennobling powers of verse, Heroic song from thy free touch acquires Its clearest tone, the rapture it inspires; Place me where winter breathes his keenest air, And I will sing if Liberty be there;