( 6 )
" Soon would I chuſe: but ere to-morrow's ſun
" Has o'er my head his radiant journey run,
" I ſhall be robb'd, by what they JUSTICE call,
" By legal ruffians, of my little all:
" Driv'n out to Hunger, Nakedneſs and Grief,
" Without one pitying hand to bring relief.
" Then come oh! ſad alternative to chuſe,
" Come, Baniſhment, I will no more refuſe.
" Go where I may, nor billows, rocks, nor wind,
" Can add of horror to my tortur'd mind;
" On whatſoever coaſt I may be thrown,
" No lord can uſe me harder than my own;
" Even they who tear the limbs and drink the gore,
" Of helpleſs ſtrangers, what can they do more?
" For thee, inſatiate chief! whoſe ruthleſs hand
" For ever drives me from my native land:
" For thee I leave no greater curſe behind,
" Than the fell bodings of a guilty mind;
" Or what were harder to a ſoul like thine,
" To find from avarice thy wealth decline.
" For you, my friends and neighbours, of the vale,
" Who now with kindly tears my fate bewail,
" Soon may your king, whoſe breaſt paternal glows,
" With tendereſt feelings for his peoples woes,
" Soon may the rulers of this mighty land,
